All Or Nothing
by laloga
Summary: A Jedi and a squad of clones are sent to an Outer Rim world to capture a notorious bio-terrorist; naturally, complications ensue. Adventurous, romantic, angsty...features my OCs, Kali and Stonewall. I don't own the SW universe; I'm just playing in it.
1. Prologue

_Author's note: I normally refrain from doing the long, drawn-out notes, but if you are familiar with any of my other works, this story kind of needs an explanation. Basically, a decision was made at the end of _Old Wounds_ that affected the trajectory of the stories that came after it: _Bomb in a Birdcage, Awakening, Duty and Destiny, _and _Sacrifice. _However, I wanted to explore what would have happened had another path been taken; thus this "AU" fic was born. _

_If you've read my other stuff, this story begins at the final chapter of _Old Wounds _and supersedes the fics that follow_;_ if this is your first foray into my little world, it is recommended that you read OW up to the last chapter, then begin this story. Confusing? Perhaps, but I **promise** it's worth it!_

_In any case, thank you for reading! Please, please enjoy, and leave feedback if you are so inclined. It helps. :-)_

_One last thing: SerendipityAEY, you rock. That is all._

* * *

**ALL OR NOTHING**

**Prologue**

At first, Kalinda Halcyon thought that she was dead, though after some time she decided it was not so, it was only that her thoughts were addled, roiling around in her head like an ion storm; they were shapeless, formless, without beginning or end. Memory and dream coalesced and she was not sure if she was awake or asleep. Eventually, she became aware of voices around her; though she couldn't make any of them out, she tried to listen, to figure out why she felt so disconnected and strange. As she listened, her focus sharpened and her thoughts became more orderly.

The dreams faded while the memories resurfaced.

_Asajj Ventress held me captive, _she thought, _and she nearly killed me. I escaped...no, _we _escaped, Stonewall and I. But how? _She tried to open her eyes, but they wouldn't respond to her brain's commands, which she found frustrating. Finally she gave up and focused again on the voices that were above her.

"...is she?"

"Still unconscious."

She recognized the voices, though she couldn't quite match them to any of the faces that she'd seen in her dreams or memories. _I must try to open my eyes, _she thought. _I need to know what is happening, what has happened._

"Look."

"She's waking?"

There was suddenly a presence very close to her, a voice so familiar that it might have been her own. "Kalinda? It's Obi-Wan."

_Obi-Wan? _The name struck a chord within her. The other name..._her _name. It was a rope, thrown down to her in the darkness; Obi-Wan's voice was the light shining down showing her the way. She swallowed. Her eyelids fluttered, then opened.

She was in a small room, a cabin on a ship, and two men were standing over her. Well, one was standing – she recognized Anakin Skywalker – and the other, Obi-Wan, was kneeling beside her. He looked anxious. A faint smile crept onto her face at his expression. "What's wrong?" The words were barely a whisper and her voice sounded foreign in her ears.

"I'm just...going to tell Stonewall that she's okay. Rex said he was asking about her." Anakin's voice faded as he left the room, but she hardly noticed.

"Are you...how are you?" Obi-Wan asked, as he peered at her.

She managed a shrug, then winced at the pain that blossomed in her shoulders. "Okay. Though I feel like I lost a fight with a gang of Hutts." She lifted a hand and ran her fingers through his beard. "I didn't mean that about the animal," she added. He looked confused, and she sighed. "When I said that your beard looked like a small animal was attached to your face...I didn't mean it. It's quite attractive, actually."

He chuckled, though his gaze on her was pensive. "Forgiven and forgotten, Kali."

Nodding, she glanced around the room. "Where are we?"

"Aboard the _Resolute,_" Obi-Wan replied, leaning back a little. "Heading for Coruscant. We should be there by tomorrow evening. You have an appointment with one of the Healers."

Something Anakin had said jolted her memory. "Stonewall! Is he...?"

"He's fine. He was a little chilly when I picked you two up, but there was hardly a scratch on his armor." Obi-Wan paused. "He will be glad to know that you are awake at last."

"He's one of the good ones," she replied. "He saved my life. I'm not sure what I would have done without him." He made no response, so she cleared her throat and looked at him. "What happened to Ventress?"

Obi-Wan let out a sigh. "She managed to escape - again. She had a third escape pod, as well as a contact nearby that we didn't notice. They jumped to hyperspace while we were rescuing you and Stonewall."

"Thank you for coming to my rescue. Though I must admit, I'm surprised that they let you; it seems like they would have preferred that you stayed out of anything that involved me." His eyes shifted to one side and she felt a broad grin split her face. "You went against the rest of the Jedi Council?" She laughed outright. "Are you crazy?"

"Possibly," he replied with another sigh. "Though..."

"What is it?"

He made no reply, instead he ran a hand through his auburn hair. "How are you, really?"

"Fine," she answered, looking at him curiously. "I'm fine." There was a pregnant pause, then she raised her brow at him. "How are _you_?"

"Not so well."

At the tone of his voice, a knot began to tighten in her stomach, though she tried to ignore it for now. "What does that mean? Obi-Wan?"

After a moment he sighed again. "Kalinda...you know that I care for you. I always have. But-" He swallowed and leaned back in his chair, his eyes on hers. "But whatever it was that is between us...it needs to be set to the side, at least until things settle down. With the war...it's just too much right now. We each have a duty to the Republic that _must _come first. Perhaps when there is peace again, we can revisit..."

"_When_ there is peace?" She shook her head. "And what if neither of us live long enough to see that day? You're acting like you're in a negotiation. It's _me, _Ben." At her words his eyes closed briefly and he nodded, though otherwise he was holding unnaturally still, as if the slightest movement would fracture him; when he spoke again, his voice was weary.

"Kali..." He met her gaze again. "I abandoned my mission; I went against the better judgment of the Council to help Anakin rescue you and in retrospect, I would have done much more to see you to safety. And though this time it worked out for the better, next time it might not."

His words were careful and she wondered if he'd mapped them out before hand. _Very likely, knowing him._

"There might not be a next time."

He exhaled and nodded. "There will always be trouble in our lives, Kali."

"Exactly," she replied, her throat tight. "We're at war; we walk on a knife's edge all the time, Ben. But I didn't ask you to rescue me, now or ever." She held his gaze. "I've only ever asked one thing of you."

Obi-Wan paused and his eyes closed briefly, and she got the sense that he was casting his mind back to a distant, shared memory. "You and I...we have a history, but we shouldn't allow it to get in the way of our responsibility to the Jedi Order any more than we already have, especially now." He frowned as he watched her. "You have to understand."

"I do understand," she replied. "Responsibility. Commitment. Those things are so important and they can't be set aside, now or ever. But _you_ need to understand that our time is so precious, especially now." She willed her expression to be smooth and impassive though her fists clenched at her sides. "We've been down this road before, Ben...over and over. And you need to know that I meant what I said on Basrah...I don't want to wait anymore."

"An ultimatum?" His brow lifted and she shook her head.

"No, Ben. A realization." There was absolute silence in the room for several moments as they both absorbed the words. Finally she spoke again. "I know that you love me, Ben." Her voice still sounded strange in her ears. "I know that a part of me will always love you."

Once more he sighed, running his hand through his beard. "Please, Kalinda. Just call me Obi-Wan." His eyes met hers one last time. "I'm so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you." Though the words were a whisper, they reverberated within her mind until she thought that would be all that she heard ever again.

"Obi-Wan," she repeated, her voice careful and measured. "Of course." They did not look at one another for some time until she cleared her throat. "You know, I'm feeling a little tired from the meds," she said, still not meeting his eyes.

"Certainly," he replied, rising from his place beside her. "I'll let you rest." With that he slipped from her room in silence, leaving her alone again.

* * *

By some mercy of the Force she was able to sleep, though her dreams were dark and restless; when she awoke, Kali realized that she had no desire to remain bedridden so she dressed in the fresh set of robes that had been brought for her and slipped out of her cabin. It was late – or early – and there was no one else about at this hour, which suited her mood just fine.

She made her way to the mess hall and stood by one of the wide windows that faced the blackness of space. _Why aren't I crying? s_he thought as she gazed beyond the _Intrepid _to the stars beyond_. I should be devastated, but all I feel is...nothing. Empty, maybe. Cold, definitely._

"I'm glad to see you on your feet, General."

The unexpected voice made her whirl around in surprise; it was Stonewall, standing at attention on the opposite side of the mess. "Thank you, Stone," she replied after a beat. "I mean...thanks to you, I suppose." He nodded stiffly, his back ramrod straight and she chuckled. "At ease, for goodness sake." She watched as he hesitated a moment before he removed his helmet to mop some of the sweat off of his brow. Kalinda smiled at him. "I see you've gotten some...additional duties." She nodded to the minuscule brush that he was using to scrub the mess hall floor.

The trooper shrugged. "Nothing too bad. Mostly cleaning...and lots of drills. Sir."

"Never a dull moment?"

"Not really," he answered. After a slight pause he spoke again. "How are you feeling?"

That was the moment that broke her; she lowered her face to her hands and tried to stop the onslaught of tears to no avail. Her cheeks were hot and streaked with wet as she tried to find her control, to keep her emotions in check even as Stonewall crossed the room to stand beside her, his hand hovering over her shoulder for a moment before dropping to his side.

When she was able to speak her voice was shaking. "I've been better." Something in her heart tightened and she took several deep breaths to calm herself before she looked up at him. "It's...been a long day."

"Copy that, General," he replied, his tone cautious. "Er...do you want to talk about it?"

She chuckled and dabbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her tunic, pausing when he held out a clean rag that had been tucked in his belt. "Thanks, but not really." Several more steady breaths brought order to her thoughts at last and she felt some of the restlessness fade. "What will happen to you when we get back to Coruscant?" she asked, scrubbing her face with the cloth.

"I suppose we'll get sent on another mission. It's really not for me to say, General."

Nodding, she looked up at him, taking a deep breath. "Tomorrow I'm going to speak with Commander Cody," she said. "And when we reach Coruscant I'm going to talk to the Council. I think that you deserve a promotion. After all, I'm not sure I'd be alive if it weren't for you, Stone."

His brow furrowed as he considered her words. "I was reckless and could have – should have, more likely – gotten killed." However, through the doubt in his voice she could tell that he was pleased.

Kali put a hand on his arm, the armored plating was cool to the touch. "But it was thanks to you that the other Jedi were able to find me," she replied. "And you destroyed Ventress' means of holding me captive, _and _managed to strike a blow on her, which is no mean feat." Her dark eyes met his lighter ones and she was struck at once by their color, like a jar of honey held up to the sun, though she put the thought aside. "I wouldn't be standing here if it weren't for your bravery, Stonewall. Thank you. I mean that, I really do."

He didn't speak for a moment, but after taking a breath he nodded once. She removed her hand and turned to go, pausing at the door to the mess hall to glance back at him. "I think that I'll be taking on other missions when I'm fully healed; I'll need someone by my side that I can trust...what do you say, Stone? Would you be up for it?"

"Absolutely, General," he said, standing at attention and giving her a crisp salute. "It would be a great honor to serve at your side again." They exchanged a last look before she nodded once and slipped out of the mess, into the dark corridor beyond.

* * *

"Masters, I know that I can be of more use to the Order in the field rather than remaining the Temple." Kalinda worked to keep her voice steady as she faced Mace Windu and Yoda in the Council Chambers of the Jedi Temple several days later. "Though I know that I am not a skilled warrior, I feel that I have proven myself to be able to handle more than just instructing younglings and assisting Jocasta in the Archives; I wish to serve the Republic in the same capacity as every other Jedi "

Master Windu regarded her with his dark eyes, his fingers steepled before him. "So you would abandon your duties at the Temple?"

"An important task, the role of a teacher is," Yoda added, his large eyes unblinking as they remained fixed on her. "Not to be treated lightly."

"No, Masters," she said. "You're right. It's just...I feel that I should be out there," she gestured to the dimming Coruscanti sky beyond the windows of the wide, marbled room. "Helping the others. If this latest mission has taught me anything, it's that I am capable of a great deal more than what I've done so far." She met Mace's eyes. "Will you give me a chance?"

The Jedi Masters exchanged glances before turning their scrutinizing gazes back on her. "Very well," Mace said after a moment. "You will be given another mission, though I think you are better suited to intelligence gathering and covert ops rather than the front lines of battle." He glanced at Master Yoda before looking back at her. "What do you know of Doctor Nes Raphan?"

"The scientist? Wasn't he the man who developed a cure for Issican Fever?" The disease had been all over the holonet several years prior to the start of the war and the man who'd managed to cure it had been lauded a hero.

"Allied with the Separatists, he has," Yoda replied, his tone regretful. "A dangerous man to have on their side, he is. Find him, you must."

Master Windu nodded. "There are rumors that he's developed a particularly deadly toxin that could be used in biological warfare. You will find him and bring him to us, along with any of his research."

Kalinda nodded; at his words, the knot in her chest had unraveled a fraction. He gave her some more information and a plan began to form in her mind, along with the knowledge that she would be glad to have something else to think about besides Obi-Wan. "Thank you, Masters." She paused and Yoda looked at her, his ears lifting.

"More to ask, have you?"

"You read my reports," she said after a beat. "The clone Lieutenant who stowed aboard Ventress' ship to rescue me...I respectfully request that he be promoted to the rank of Captain, as well as assigned to me."

Mace frowned. "I know that you haven't spent much time in the field, my old Padawan, but these things are not for you to decide."

"Why not?" she countered. "With all due respect Masters, we made an excellent team. I've even taken the liberty of speaking to Commander Cody, who feels that Stonewall is ready for a promotion, ready for the responsibilities of command." Her chin lifted as she met Mace's gaze; though she knew that he would always be the imposing, impossible-to-please Master of her youth, she had learned a thing or two about dealing with him. "At least let us try it, for a little while. If things don't go as you like, he can be reassigned and I'll come back here. All I'm asking for is a chance."

The dark-skinned Jedi took a deep breath as he regarded her; Yoda said nothing, deferring to Mace's judgment in this instance. Finally her old master nodded. "Very well. He will be promoted and assigned to you. You might also want to consider selecting a team of soldiers to accompany the two of you: a small squad should suffice. I'll let you inform you new Captain."

With that, she was dismissed. As she headed for the Temple exit, she felt a familiar presence approaching her direction; she steeled herself as Obi-Wan came into view. On impulse, she imagined a vast wall between them, behind which her thoughts and emotions would be hidden.

_I will not let him in anymore, _she thought, her jaw tightening. _It has to be this way, if for no other reason than my sanity._ They met in one of the wide, pillared walkways in the heart of the Temple and paused to greet one another. She was able to meet his gaze but said nothing beyond a customary hello.

After a moment his throat cleared. "What did the Council say?" She had told him of her plans before they'd left the _Intrepid_; his reaction had been neutral, much as it was now. "Will your request be granted?" His tone was polite and formal.

"It will," she replied, telling him of her assignment. "I'm going to have to put a team together, which will be interesting." A group of younglings passed by, some of them waving to her; she returned the gesture, thankful for the momentary respite from having to look at Obi-Wan's face.

After nodding to the children as well, Obi-Wan gave her a small smile. "You're not missing much by not being on the front lines, Kalinda. It can be a little too...exciting."

"As long as I can be of use to the Republic," she replied, keeping her voice steady. "And you? What's your next step?"

"Anakin and I are shipping out tomorrow," he said, his hands folding in front of him. "It should be interesting." She nodded, but made no response. It was all she could do, really, to face him with such calm, though a lifetime of training in controlling her emotions was serving her well, as was the mental wall she'd built. They looked at one another for a moment before he cleared his throat again. "You look like you've recovered from your ordeal."

"Thanks to you and Stonewall," she replied. "I owe you for that, B...Obi-Wan." She took another breath. "I have to get going," she said at last. "I have a promotion to give out."

"Tell him I said 'congratulations,'" Obi-Wan said, nodding to her, his arms folding before him. "It's well earned." There was a moment where something fluttered between them like a scrap of paper caught on the breeze; but it passed, fell to the floor at their booted feet. When she made to turn and walk away he said her name once more; upon meeting his gaze, she was struck at how that particular shade of blue never failed to make her heart skip a beat, though there was remorse and sorrow in the thought now. "Goodbye, Kalinda. May the Force be with you."

She nodded. "And you as well, Obi-Wan." T_his has to be the end,_ she thought, as she walked away from him_. I don't think I can take anymore. _When she reached the turbolift, she lifted her comlink. "Stonewall? Where are you? We have much to discuss." His form flickered at her wrist.

There was a pause before he replied, nodding. "I'm in the barracks, General. Can I meet you somewhere?"

_General, _she thought with an internal shudder. _That's still going to take some getting used to. _"How about the outside the Executive Building? North entrance...I think that's about halfway between the Temple and the barracks. Say in twenty minutes?"

"Of course, General Halcyon," he replied, saluting. "I'll see you there." Though his tone was polite and formal, she could almost sense his anticipation through the hologram and despite herself she smiled.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Stonewall didn't dream very often, but when he did it was always the same.

_The LAAT is almost completely dark, as the blast doors are closed for their initial descent onto the battlefield. All around him are his brothers, though no one is speaking he can feel the tension in the air. Outside there is a booming sound and the transport shakes, causing all the men to grip the handles that hang from the ceiling a little tighter. He swallows and tries to remember his training, tries to feel the certainty that he once did, the assurance that he is doing exactly what he is supposed to be doing._

_He can't._

_Suddenly he feels a nudge at his elbow; turning, he sees his brother, Drake, incline his head towards the slit in the side of the blast door, the only light that enters the transport. "Looks like nice weather, at least, eh vod?" Drake's voice is casual, as though they are about to go to the mess hall and it brings a measure of comfort. _

_However, he does not get to make a reply as the Larty shudders in its landing on the shifting, Geonosian sands. The doors open. Light, blinding sunlight that is unlike anything he has ever seen on Kamino, floods his visor and obscures his vision for several moments until he pulls himself together and begins firing at the nearest group of droids; he was not even aware that he had leaped out of the ship and started to run. Drake is beside him still, moving in synch with his brother and together they fire on a group of clustered droids; when those have been brought down, they rush to the next group, then the next._

_He is not sure how long this continues; he is only vaguely aware of the ache in his legs and the furious pounding of his heart as he dodges blaster fire and does his best to stick with Drake. At some point they get separated from the others and he nearly panics, but then Drake is beside him. _

"_Look," his brother points to a rolling droid tank that he recognizes from his training: a Hailfire -class. "Think we can take it out?" He can hear the grin in Drake's voice. "Just like the drills, vod." They make their way to the massive, two-wheeled machine unmolested, as two clones amidst the frenetic battle are hardly a noteworthy sight. Drake fires at the tank's midsection, one of the few vulnerable areas only able to be reached at close range. "I can cross the wires in the main system," Drake calls to him. "Just cover me, okay vod?"_

_All around them the battle rages. As he fires on droid after droid, he can see a pair of Jedi in the distance, their distinctive bright sabers cutting through metal with ease even as they deflect blaster bolts. They are not weapons, as he is, he thinks. They are works of art. Unmatched in talent and skill. _

_And then he turns and sees that someone has taken notice of his and Drake's actions, as there are four of the droidekas approaching him. He calls to Drake to hurry. The rollers grow closer and he can see the faint blue outline of the shields that deflect his fire. He calls to his brother again._

_Drake lands beside him and urges him to run. They run. The tank detonates with a wave of heat and a scream of rending metal. They keep running, but the rollers are on their tails, as if seeking revenge for the destroyed Hailfire. _

_All around them are the shouts and cries of the dying interspersed with the shriek of blaster fire, but even as they run from certain death he hears Drake's voice in his comm. "Never a dull moment, huh brother?"_

* * *

Stonewall had not expected to hear from the dark-haired Jedi so soon after Basrah; in truth, it had bothered him more than he could say to see a Jedi – or anyone, really – in a state of such abject misery when he encountered her on the _Intrepid. _Though he had known her only a few days, he had reckoned General Halcyon to be the kind of person with a ready smile and a kind word, and he wondered what it was that had upset her so as he made his way to the Senate district after checking in with Commander Cody.

_Not that it's any of my business, _he thought as he stood at attention besides several of the red and white armored shock troopers that had recently been posted at the massive building. All around him, citizens of Coruscant rushed by: senatorial aides, civilians, military personnel and a few scattered senators, none of whom paid the least bit of attention to the clones, which suited him just fine. _Jedi matters are not a soldier's concern. _He nodded to the nearest trooper, who inclined his head slightly but made no response. _She's my CO; nothing more. As it should be. As it _must_ be._

Still, he couldn't shake the image: she had looked as though the slightest touch would break her apart, her face shadowed in the muted lights of the mess hall that last night.

True to her word, the general appeared through the crowd within the allotted time and Stonewall found that he was irrationally pleased to see her slight figure approaching him. She lifted her hand in greeting and he returned the gesture with a salute, smiling to himself as she sighed and shook her head. They met in the center of the wide platform; the sun was almost completely below the horizon at this point, its light reflected off nearby buildings and casting the crowds of people in a glow; it set the edges of her dark hair aflame as she looked up at him. "Stonewall," she said. "How's it going?"

The question caught him off guard, but he remained at attention. "Very well, sir."

"Are you hungry?"

"Always, sir." It was true; the clones' metabolic systems were constantly in need of fuel, in part due to their rapidly aging cells. At this she nodded and before he knew it they had made their way to one of the smaller cafes that catered to the nearby Senate building whose awning advertised "_the strongest caf in town!_" Stonewall watched as the general slid into a booth beside one of the windows and beckoned him to follow; after a moment's hesitation he sat down across from her, keeping his back straight.

"You can take the helmet off, if you want," she said once he had settled. "Unless you can eat with it on." There was levity in her voice though her expression was deadpan.

Nodding, Stonewall popped the seal and placed his bucket on the seat beside him. Instantly, he was assaulted by a host of sensations: the hissing sound of a hot beverage being prepared behind the far counter; the sharp scent of brewed caf mingling with the delicious aroma of baked goods; the rush of displaced air against his cheek as the door to the cafe slid open again to allow more patrons to enter. He glanced back at the Jedi to see that she was watching him, a faint expression of amusement on her face. "I've never been here, sir," he explained, glancing at a Twi'lek couple who were regarding him with unmasked curiosity. "It's...nice." The words sounded clumsy on his tongue and he tried not to wince.

"Your hair," she exclaimed after a moment. "You shaved it all off!"

He ran a hand over his head, his fingers brushing the fine fringe that remained. "It's less trouble this way, sir," he replied, glancing back at her. "But I didn't want it all gone."

"It suits you," she said, smiling at him. "It really does." She gestured to the menu screen that was stationed above the long counter opposite them. "What'll you have? It's on me."

There were a dazzling array of options and Stonewall was taken aback at the challenge of picking one, as everything sounded delicious and unfamiliar. Finally he looked back at her. "I'm not sure, sir. What's good here?"

One of her eyebrows lifted. "You trust me, right?" He nodded and she seemed pleased. "Great. You won't be disappointed, Stone." She flagged down the service droid and placed their order; moments later two steaming mugs were placed before them, with the promise of food to come. The Jedi began to add sugar to hers and after a moment, Stonewall did as well. "So," she began. "You remember our talk on the _Resolute? _Are you still interested in accompanying me on missions?"

The caf was strong, but rather good once he added several packets of sugar. "I am, sir." He wondered if she remembered saying that she'd promote him, but decided not to mention it just in case it had just been idle talk.

"Excellent. I've been given an assignment – it's a little unusual, from what I understand – and I'd like your help." He nodded again and she continued, telling him about the bio-terrorist that he'd been only vaguely aware of, Doctor Nes Raphan. "Anyway," she said as two small, empty plates were set down in front of them, with one larger one in the center of the table that was covered in an assortment of breads and pastries. "The Council has decided that you should be assigned to me – for now – and that we get to track this man down. It's imperative that we figure out exactly what he's helping the Separatists cook up."

Stonewall did his best to focus on her words but the aroma of the food was rather distracting; his eyes kept flicking to the plate before him, piled high with baked goods. Finally she chuckled and shifted it towards him. "Go on before you strain something; I recommend the chocolate scones."

Heat crept to his cheeks. "My apologies, sir," he said, trying to ignore the growling in his stomach. "You were briefing me."

She shrugged and selected one of the scones. "I think the 'briefing' can wait for a few minutes. Dig in." They sat in silence for a few minutes while they ate; well, he realized after a moment, he was doing most of the eating while she merely nibbled at the pastry and sipped her drink, her eyes focused on something outside the window. A casual glance showed the direction of her gaze to be the Jedi Temple, the ziggurat whose spires could be seen from any number of locations around this part of town. When he had more or less eaten his fill she met his eyes again. "Good, aren't they?" He nodded and she leaned forward, her hands around the mug. "How do you feel about special ops? I need to put a team together, but am somewhat at a loss how to do so."

This kind of talk he could handle. "I can help with that. To track down this Raphan?" She nodded and he leaned back in the booth, ignoring the uncomfortable press of his armor with the motion. "A broad range of talents would be best," he continued, his tone thoughtful. "We'd need to make sure we were covered for any contingency. I can think of a few men off hand who might work..." he trailed off and looked at her. "When would you like this done, General?"

Her hands spread. "As soon as possible."

"Right, sir." He considered for a moment. "Can you please give me a day to contact the candidates, sir? I'll get back to you by this time tomorrow, if that's okay."

"Of course," she replied, sipping her drink. "And you can drop the 'sir.'" At his startled look, the edges of her mouth tugged. "It's just a little...formal for me. Please call me 'Kalinda,' or 'Kali' if you don't mind." As if sensing his discomfort she cleared her throat. "However, 'General' will work for now, though we might have to revisit that later."

_That _would take some getting used to, but he nodded. "As you wish, General."

At this she sighed but made no further comment on the matter. After a moment she set her cup down and reached out to him. "One last thing: I almost forgot to congratulate you," she said as she smiled and shook his hand; even through his glove her skin was warm. "Captain."

* * *

When Stone contacted her the following evening, Kali was covered in sweat and grime from a grueling sparring session with several of the Temple's training droids; she was determined to become a more proficient fighter, despite the persistent ache in her knee and she wanted to work on her shield a little more. However, she'd lost track of time – of course – and answered her comm with a gasp. "It's evening, isn't it?" she said as Stone's image appeared at her wrist. _Kriffing hell._

If he noticed her disheveled appearance he gave no indication of it. "General Halcyon. I have the team that we discussed."

"Excellent. Give me twenty minutes," she replied, exiting the training room with her robe in hand. "I'll meet you guys at the barracks."

"Certainly, General."

Once his image died she all but ran to her quarters to shower and change, as she had no desire to meet her new troops – _there _was another strange thought – looking a ragged mess; as she didn't have time to wash her hair, she plaited it in her customary long braid and decided to deal with it later. _Though, _she thought as she slipped on a fresh tunic. _I'm not sure it even matters what I look like. It's not like they won't follow the orders of a Jedi if her hair is dirty. _Still, she felt it was important to look as professional as possible, since they would most definitely be doing the same for her.

With nine minutes to spare she made her way to the ubiquitous shuttles that ran between the Temple, the clone barracks, the Senate and any other place where military personnel might need to travel. There were not many people about at this time and she had most of the shuttle to herself, which she found to be more of a curse than a blessing, as it allowed her to be alone with her own thoughts. Obi-Wan and Anakin had left the planet that morning; from the window of her quarters she'd watched their transport leave, feeling Obi-Wan's presence receding, though the weight in her chest refused to budge.

Finally the shuttle arrived at its destination; she stepped on to the tarmac and found Stone in an instant, his presence had become familiar and welcome since Basrah, though she resisted the urge to wave to him this time. After they'd parted ways the previous night she'd contacted the quartermaster at the clone barracks and informed him of Stone's promotion, so she was pleased to see that he was wearing new, red-striped armor, complete with pauldron and kama. It suited him.

The four clones who stood at attention behind him were dressed in the requisite white plastoid armor, their gauntleted hands rose to their T-shaped visors in a unified salute as she approached. Stonewall stepped forward and spoke, his voice distorted through the mic in his helmet. "Your new squad as requested, General Halcyon." One by one they stepped forward and gave their ranks and numbers, none of which she remembered. Instead, Kalinda asked them to remove their helmets, which they did – again, as one fluid motion – and she approached each one individually.

The first clone was as bald as Master Windu, and though his expression was solemn, she could sense an undercurrent of merriment within him, a joviality that made her smile. "Do you have a nickname?"

His eyes flicked to Stone, who nodded, before he spoke. "Yes, sir. Crest."

"Crest is our ordnance man," Stonewall said. "Demolitions."

"That's a fancy way of saying I like to blow stuff up," Crest added, a grin splitting his face, though he recovered quickly. "Sir."

Nodding, Kalinda moved to the next trooper; he was also bald, though he had two strips of hair shaved onto the top of his skull. From him, she sensed an innate curiosity, a desire to heal and help others, as well as a quiet, orderly mind. At her gaze he straightened and nodded. "Weave, sir."

"You're the medic, aren't you?"

He nodded again, though she sensed his incredulity, surpassed only by his unease, which she thought might have more to do with the fact that she was female than anything else. _They haven't been around too many women, I suppose. _"Yes, General."

Stonewall spoke. "Weave's good to have around when you have a problem that you can't shoot your way out of."

"I'm sure we'll have our share of those," she replied, smiling at the trooper, who flushed and lowered his eyes. "Weave. Good to have you around."

The next clone was younger than the others, his face smoother and less battle-worn and he had a full head of hair. "General," he said, saluting her again. "I'm Milo. Stealth and sniper-trained, sir." His voice was tinted with eagerness and she sensed impatience from him as well, which made him seem so much younger than the rest.

"You'll find no better shot around, General," Stonewall added.

Kali nodded again and patted Milo's shoulder. "How long have you been in combat, Milo?"

At this he hesitated and glanced at Stonewall, who answered for him. "Four months since he graduated, General."

"But my squad was at the top of the class," Milo added. "We completed our exam in record time."

"Congratulations," Kalinda replied, though she wasn't sure if it was the right thing to say. "That's good to hear."

The final clone emanated nothing so much as determination and stubbornness. _This man is a force to be reckoned with,_ she thought as she nodded to him. He did not offer his name so she asked him. "Traxis," he replied. There was a long, jagged scar that ran diagonally across his face from his forehead to below his body armor, shiny and pink. "Weapons are my deal, sir." He met her gaze unflinchingly and she was struck again by the fierce energy he exuded. A glance at his torso showed that he was equipped with several more blasters than the standard DC-15's, as well as an assortment of blades, both vibro and steel.

"Traxis," she repeated, giving him a nod. "I'm glad you're on our side." The clone said nothing, but she sensed a flicker of amusement from him at her words.

"Haven't met anyone else with such an...affinity for weapons as Traxis," Stonewall added. Kalinda looked back at the captain, touched by his obvious pride in each of the men he'd selected. She stepped beside him once more and faced the squad – her squad – clearing her throat to address them all.

"Gentlemen," she began, meeting each of their eyes in turn. "I look forward to working with each of you; I think that between us, we'll be unstoppable." She glanced at Stonewall, whose shoulders straightened under her gaze. "First thing tomorrow morning," she added. "We're going hunting."


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

_Five weeks later..._

From that moment on, it felt like they hadn't stopped moving. Before he even realized it, Stonewall found the Jedi, himself, and his squad aboard a shuttle, hurtling through the galaxy in pursuit of Doctor Raphan and his cohort, Breen Gymir, finally setting down on a distant world in the Outer Rim: Japarran.

The planet of Japarran consisted primarily of vast jungles that rivaled even the forests of Kashyyyk; the trees and plants were variegated and thick, covering almost eighty percent of the planet's surface. Presently, Stonewall was crouched behind the cover of a fallen _boga _tree, every sense alert for the sound of footsteps in front of him that would signal when it was time to spring the trap for Gymir, a member of the three-eyed Gran species that they'd been tracking for well over a month; intel had informed them that he was scheduled to meet his associate, Raphan, on this backwater planet and Stonewall was more than ready to be done with this leg of the hunt.

Though he couldn't see them, he knew that his brothers were set up at strategic intervals throughout the thick forest, their armor painted to camouflage their presence. A series of blinks into the corner of his HUD in his visor opened the short-range comm channel that would allow him to communicate with each of them at once. "Milo and Crest: you're in position?"

"Almost, Captain," Milo replied, his tone hesitant. "Just give me a minute...I think I can get a better shot from the next branch..."

"You have thirty seconds," Stonewall said with a frown. _Shinies, _he thought with a sigh before noting the position of another of his men atop one of the thick branches of a stately _boga _tree that was draped in moss and vines. "Crest?"

"Can't wait to drop a few rounds of ordo onto those tinnies...just give the word, Cap," his demolitions man said, a grin in his voice. "Those clankers are gonna be farkled for sure."

"Weave, Traxis...you've got the, er, _other _part of the plan ready?" The air had grown very still, as if the jungle was holding its breath in anticipation of the skirmish.

There was a hesitation that made him tense, but he nodded to himself when his brother spoke. "Weave here: Captain, we're all set." They had taken position on a hillock adjacent to the area, which would provide the weapons man, Traxis, with ample room for his favorite toy.

"We would be, if you would get out of my way. Vera needs room to breathe." Traxis' voice was a low growl.

"Calm down, Trax," Weave replied in a weary tone. "There's enough room here for us both – and your blaster cannon."

"_Modified_ blaster cannon."

"That's enough, you two. Stand by." Stonewall glanced at his dark-haired companion. "The lads are in position, General. On your word." They were crouching beside one another in the cover of the felled tree, their backs against the rough, greenish bark.

The Jedi nodded. "Excellent." As if sensing his unease she smiled at him. "This _will_ work, Stone. Have a little faith, will you?" They could hear the clanking sound as the droids approached; a cluster of small birds that had been hidden in the dense brush took flight, their cries piercing the still air, punctuated by the sound of flapping wings.

Thankful that he was wearing his helmet, as it concealed his look of disbelief, he nodded. "As you say, General." He lifted his DC-17 and checked – again – that it was fully charged and ready to go.

"One of these days, I'm going to get you to drop that epithet," she replied, rising from her crouch. "It's far too formal for me." With that, she leaped out of the cover to face their opponent. "Hello there, Gymir," she called to the triple-eyed Gran male who was surrounded by a battalion of droids, both of the generic B1 and the bulkier B2 varieties. "Such a pleasure to see you again."

The Gran glared at her a moment before raising his blaster and aiming it at her heart, the surrounding tinnies following suite. "You again? I thought we'd lost you back on Rhen Var, Jedi." His voice was cold with unconcealed malice; still hidden, Stonewall fixed the Gran's head in his scope and held his finger over the trigger, waiting for her signal. Their target was dressed in what had previously been a rather nice suit, though weeks of being relentlessly pursued by the small but dogged Republic force had added much wear and tear to the black garment.

Though his eyes were trained on the scientist, Stonewall could hear the smile in her voice as she replied. "And abandon you after all we've been through together? Perish the thought." Her yellow saber ignited with a familiar hiss. "Breen Gymir, you are under arrest for conspiring against the Republic and for the manufacturing and sale of biological weapons. I order you to call off your droids and come with me."

The Gran's laughter reverberated through the forest, startling a family of small mammals from their home in the trees above, their passage marked by the rustling of branches and a faint shower of leaves. Milo let out a curse on the secure comm channel; the creatures must have been near his position. "Keep your focus, Milo," Stonewall said, his voice low as he continued to peer through the scope on his Deece. "It's nearly time."

The Gran's three eyes wavered in the center of the display as he looked down at the Jedi woman, a smirk on his face. "You and what army? Those half-trained miscreants I saw at our last meeting?"

"Now, Stone!"

At her words the clone captain gave the order and all hell broke loose.

The booming of blaster cannon fire was all that anyone could hear for a moment as Traxis let loose a single shot towards the droid escort. From his vantage point in the treetops, Crest tossed a dozen or so droid-poppers to the tinnies that were next to the Gran himself, crippling many of the spindly B1's before he began taking the rest out with his blaster; with his rifle, Milo began picking off the more solidly constructed B2's that surrounded Gymir. There was another booming sound, followed immediately by a spray of droid parts as Trax let loose another volley, hurling obscenities at the droids as he did so. For his part, Stonewall leaped from his position and fired on the nearest group of tinnies that threatened to cluster around the Jedi.

As the remaining clankers turned to open fire at the clones in the treetops, Weave swooped into view from the opposite direction, swinging from his cable to snatch the Gran up and place him directly before General Halcyon, who was deflecting stray blaster bolts; while Weave held their prisoner, Stonewall placed the muzzle of his Deece against the Gran's head and glared at him. "Call them off." Gymir shot him a look filled with loathing that did little to improve the Captain's mood, especially as his men were being fired on by the enemy forces they'd been pursuing for a well over a fortnight. "_Now._"

"Stand down, you scrap heaps," Gymir said at last, all three of his eyes narrowed on the muzzle of the Deece. "I said stand down!" Immediately, the clankers stilled, though the air was ripe with heat from blaster fire and the smell of hot metal as the clones finished off the remaining droids before approaching their general and captain.

Stonewall looked at Traxis. "Get his other arm. I don't want to take any chances." His brother nodded and moved to the prisoner.

The clones' grips were firm as they held the Gran's arms behind his back and brought him to his knees before General Halcyon, who regarded him with an almost amused expression, her saber still humming. "What was that? You're willing to come without a fight?" She held her hand up to her ear and nodded, as if they were conversing. "I'm so glad to hear it, Breen." Behind his bucket, Stonewall grinned at the mockery in her tone.

The Gran gave a feral growl and lunged at her, though he was held in place by Weave and Traxis, the latter rarely missed out on an opportunity to mishandle a baddie if he could help it. "You won't get away with this," he hissed, his accent sounding thick and guttural in his anger. "You little bi-"

"Mind your tongue," Traxis snapped, jerking the doctor's arm. "Worthless piece of g-"

"That's enough, Trax," General Halcyon said, deactivating her blade and crossing her arms to her chest. "We don't need to stoop to his level; besides, he's not going anywhere. Are you, Breen?"

"You have no idea what you're dealing with, do you?" The Gran replied, glowering at her. He had suddenly grown calm and Stonewall felt a prickle of danger as he glanced around the forest, which had again become silent.

"Captain!" It was Milo, who had held his position in one of the massive, thick-barked trees that surrounded them. "Reinforcements at four o'clock!" Indeed, moments later they could hear the crash of the new droid squad approaching, the groan of metal against wood as the lifeless soldiers came into view.

"Keep the prisoner secure," Stone ordered to Traxis and Weave. "Get him to cover!"

For her part, the general lunged after the droids, her yellow saber springing to life with a hiss and humming as she felled several of the slender battle-droids at once, her movements a graceful dance. Stonewall thought that he could never tire of watching her, though he pushed the thought to the side as he fired on the clankers, hoping to take down as many as he could; there were at least four dozen and it bothered him to think that they had not detected them sooner. However, there was no point in concerning himself about that now.

He raised a grenade and shouted to the others to get out of the way. It arced through the air to land in the center of the tinnies, who erupted in a shower of metal and sparks; the clone captain watched with satisfaction as the enemy forces were cut down to a more manageable number. Crest had taken up position on the edge of the fray, firing on the droids while Milo continued to rain blaster bolts from above; Traxis, however, had left his position with the prisoner to join the general in the center of the battle as he fired on the droids with a twin set of blasters that he wore at his sides. _Damn him, _Stonewall thought as he brought down another B2. _I told him to stay put._

Stonewall was preparing another grenade when he heard Weave shout behind him; turning, he saw his brother on the ground as Gymir sprang away and made a beeline for the General, who was still engaging the droids at close range. Immediately, Stonewall lunged after the assistant, his only thought to stop the Gran before he reached the Jedi. He shouted a warning to her; she turned in time to see Gymir pull something small and glinting out of his sleeve, raise his hand and toss whatever it was in her direction.

Time seemed to stretch, to become a taut bowstring, a withheld breath. The clone captain prayed to whatever gods were listening that he would be fast enough to save her.

While the Jedi's attention was fixed on the Gran, her saber raised and a determined look on her features, one of the clankers that Stonewall _knew _his men should have taken out sprang behind her, firing at her the instant she sprang away to avoid whatever Gymir was aiming; her side was caught in edges of the droid's fire. Stonewall heard her yelp of pain and he felt a thrill of terror streak through him. In the next moment he was knocking the Gran to the ground and wrenching his hands behind him, calling for his brothers who were already at his side. Traxis fired on the rogue droid while Crest and Milo finished off the remaining tinnies.

But Stonewall was only dimly aware of the activity around him. Though he held Gymir in a firm grip, all of his attention was focused on the dark-haired Jedi who lay still in the dirt and brush in front of him. Later, he would recall the thudding of his heart from within his armor as he watched for the rise of her chest and listened for the intake of breath that would signify that she was alive.

Time was still and so was she.

Then Weave was beside her, checking her vitals before he looked up at Stonewall. "She's alive, Captain. Wounded, but alive." He picked up the slender woman, who had seemed almost indestructible moments ago; Stonewall could see blood seeping through the side of her scorched tunic. "I'll get her back to the camp if you want to take care of _that,_" he indicated their prisoner, tossing Stonewall a hypospray. "This should keep him quiet for a while." As the squad medic, Weave had the ultimate say in these matters; besides, Stonewall found it remarkably difficult to speak at the moment. He nodded and looked down at the writhing, spitting form of their only link to one of the galaxy's most notorious biological terrorists.

"She's alive. You're one lucky son of a mudcrutch, you know that?" He injected the tranquilizers into Gymir's neck. After the assistant quieted, Stonewall glanced at the others. "Get him back to camp. We'll discuss this fiasco later."

"But-" Milo interjected.

Stonewall shook his head. "I don't want to hear it, shiny. That entire thing almost ended in disaster...the General could have been killed..." He snapped his jaw shut before he said anything else, shaking his head again. "Just get this _di'kut _back to camp."

While Traxis went to collect his cannon, Crest and Milo moved to gather up their prisoner. "You know, this species doesn't look like there's a lot to them," Crest said as he hefted the Gran's body on his back. "Until you have to tote the kriffing things around."

* * *

The first brush of true awareness brought Kali the sound of birdsong; it resonated all around, providing a measure of comfort, as local fauna never hung around for a battle while it also indicated that she was not dead – a pleasant realization. Kalinda took a deep breath and began to assess her physical condition: other than the ever-present ache in her left knee, the vestige of a childhood injury, she was sore but whole. Long ago she had taught her body to heal itself through the Force, a talent that all Jedi possessed; even as she slept, the Force – the one constant in her life – had knitted her blistered flesh and smoothed away the bruises.

Her eyes opened and the first thing she saw was her Captain beside her, his almost-golden eyes fixed on her face. "Stone?"

"General." His voice was nothing short of relieved. "How do you feel?"

"I'm here," she said. At his look of mild frustration she clarified. "Tired and sore, but in one piece, happily. Where is our guest?" Her tongue felt thick and clumsy; she tried to sit up, but was overcome with dizziness and disorientation.

"Safely in custody," he replied. "You should lie down...I think Weave overdid it on the painkillers." They were back in the squad's makeshift camp, about thirty klicks from where they'd ambushed the doctor's cohort; she was surrounded by the muted light of her tent, though there were cracks of sunlight shining in from the frayed and torn edges. It was a hardly enough space for one person, so Stone was hunched over even as he knelt beside her. "Are you thirsty? I have some water...Weave said you might be thirsty from all the meds..." He trailed off as she met his eyes. "What is it?"

She frowned, not trusting her voice for a moment. "Did you see what happened? All I remember is Gymir tossing something small and metallic at me, then..." she winced. "Pain." Her eyes snapped open as she recalled the flash in his hand. "Toxin. He had poison, didn't he?" Beneath her chest her heart rate began to increase. "Did you see what it was?"

Stonewall shook his head. "That's my fault. The men broke formation; they didn't take out all of the droids as they were supposed to and we couldn't find whatever he had." He frowned at the memory. "One of the stragglers almost took you out. If you hadn't been getting out of the Gran's way..."

"Don't be so hard on them, Stone, it's early yet," she said. "Creating a good team takes time. I know that you'll get them into shape; they're a good bunch." She tried again to sit up, but he put a gauntleted hand on her shoulder. His touch was gentle.

"Weave says you should lie down, General." Though his tone was firm, there was something in his eyes that she had never noticed before while he looked at her. "And you don't need to thank me for letting you almost get killed." He repeated the words in a murmur, as if to himself. "I almost let you get killed."

She said nothing for a moment, mostly because her eyelids were growing heavy again; however, she sensed a flare of unease from him as he continued to study her, so she gave a reassuring smile at the trooper. "It's not your fault, Stone," she said, her voice barely a whisper, which caused him to lean forward; she could almost feel his warm breath against the side of her face. "I'm not great at close combat."

He was quiet for a moment; she could see that he was considering her words. _He's so thoughtful, _she thought absently. _I can practically see the wheels turning in his head. _Finally he seemed to reach a conclusion, straightening and giving her a nod. "How are you with a blaster?"

At this she chuckled. "Okay. Not...how do you guys say it? One hundred percent. Maybe only seventy five. Eighty if the wind is right."

"Perhaps it's time to consider adding another weapon to your kit," he said, his mouth quirking into a smile at her use of the clone's lingo. "We've got enough to choose from, General. With a little practice I can have you at a hundred percent in no time."

Kalinda felt the heaviness of the meds overtaking her once more. "I've been thinking about it...call me 'General' again, Stone, and I'll have you court-marshaled...okay?" Before she could hear his response, she fell asleep and did not dream.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

After ensuring that she was comfortable with a canteen by her side, Stonewall crept out of the general's tent and made his way back to the others, who – except for Traxis – had gathered around the center of the camp: Milo and Weave were busy cleaning the gear while Crest was cooking at the portable stove. The bald clone grinned at the captain as he approached. "I thought we could use something besides ration cubes," he said, indicating the thin strips of meat hissing in the small pan before him. "Though, jerky is still jerky, even when you fry it. You think the general will want any? Weave says she might be pretty hungry when she wakes up."

Stonewall nodded. "She's asleep for now," he replied. "But I'm with you on the grub." He turned to Milo and Weave, who had stood up the moment they saw him. "How big of a dose did you give her, Weave?" he asked. "She's still out of it."

The medic hesitated a moment, running his hand across his shaved hair before he nodded. "I gave her the recommended dose for a Human female of her proportions, Captain," he answered at last. "You know, sometimes the body shuts itself down to heal; I've even heard that the Jedi can go into a kind of trance that allows them to heal even faster than regular folks." Stonewall must not have looked convinced, because Weave frowned. "I'll go check on her, if you want."

"If you would, just to make sure." The medic slipped off towards the Jedi's tent, leaving Crest and Milo standing before the captain, tension exuding from each of them. For several moments Stonewall merely looked at them, knowing full well that the anticipation of a scolding was often worse than the act itself.

Finally the shiny couldn't take it anymore. "Sir, about earlier..."

"Shut it, newbie," Crest hissed. "The storm's about to hit."

"You were sloppy and unorganized," Stonewall said, crossing his arms. "General Halcyon very nearly got killed; we haven't come through weeks of chasing after Doctor Raphan and his associates to lose it now. I expected more from both of you." He studied each of them, noting how Milo looked flustered and Crest seemed rather uncomfortable, though he was attempting to hide it. "This team, our squad," he continued. "This isn't a permanent arrangement, but I'd like it to be. I think that we have a lot of potential, but we have to keep in line. Is that clear?"

If Milo was standing any more at attention his spine would have snapped. "Yes, _sir."_

"Crest?"

The bald clone nodded. "Yes, Captain," he replied. "Now, who wants some jerky?" He held up a plate in front of Stonewall's nose. "It's nutritious, if not particularly tasty..."

Stonewall sighed. "Later, Crest." He stepped away from them and headed for the outer edge of the camp, where the limp form of Gymir was bound to one of the smaller _boga _trees. Traxis stood before the Gran male, his arms crossed and his posture imposing as he chewed a blade of grass, his helmet resting on a nearby tree branch. At the sound of the Captain's footsteps he turned, a broad grin splitting his scarred face.

"Good, you're here. When are we going to interrogate this _di'kut_?" Traxis nudged the doctor's leg with his boot.

Stonewall shook his head. "Not yet. That's the General's job."

Sighing, Traxis spit out the grass-blade, watching it flutter to land on the Gran's lap. "Shame. Think she'll let me help?"

"You disobeyed orders," Stonewall said. "You broke formation." It was an effort to keep his voice calm, especially when the image of the Jedi falling to the ground in a spray of dirt. "The General nearly got killed."

"She's a Jedi," Traxis replied, crossing his arms before him. "She's fast. Besides," he added. "He didn't do anything to her. You should be lecturing to the others: that joker and the newbie."

Stonewall gritted his teeth. "I'm talking to _you, _now, Traxis. You will obey my orders, soldier."

Traxis shrugged. "Sure, _Captain_." He met Stonewall's gaze and the two men stared at one another for several moments, unblinking, before the Gran muttered something in his sleep, causing both of them to turn towards him. The scarred clone glanced up at Stonewall again. "You sure I can't interrogate him?"

"Just get some grub," the clone captain said. He watched his brother move beside the others as Crest began dividing up the jerky, along with some fruit that he'd identified as being edible. Stonewall nearly shook his head as Crest offered him a plate again, but common sense told him that he would be no good to anyone if he was malnourished, no matter how little he cared about eating at the moment. Nerves had a way of doing that to a man.

The five clones sat in a semicircle around the beginnings of a fire pit; it had been too risky to have a fire prior to the capture of their target, but Stonewall figured that tonight would be safe enough to do so; they had arranged several of the ubiquitous fallen logs around what would later be a roaring bonfire.

Traxis watched the sedated Gran as he ate, his own movements swift and precise; his scar rippled with the motion of his jaw. "He went down pretty easy, didn't he?"

"Eventually," Stonewall said. "Though I just hope that he's got some relevant intel on the good doctor." They ate in relative silence for several minutes until the food was gone. Stonewall glanced at the youngest clone. "Thanks for offering to clean up, Milo."

"Yes, sir," Milo said with a sigh, reaching for the empty dishes.

"Thanks for the grub, Crest," Weave added, finishing off the last of his jerky and handing his plate to the shiny.

"My pleasure," the other clone replied, leaning back on his elbows after he handed his dish to Milo. Suddenly he sat upright, snapping his fingers. "What about _Oya _Squad? Kind of a 'go get 'em' feel, huh?" He grinned at the others and ran a hand across his clean-shaven head.

Traxis snorted. "It's silly. Why do we even need a name?"

"We don't, but I like it," Weave replied. "It has a nice ring. What do you think, newbie?"

"_Milo_," the youngest clone said with a sigh. "Not 'shiny' or 'newbie_.' _And it's okay...Captain? What do you think?"

But Stonewall had stopped listening to the discussion; all of his attention was focused on the ragged tent several meters from his position, specifically on the dark-haired figure that was emerging. She stood in the fading light of the afternoon, blinking slowly before she began to approach them. He noted how her movements were a little stiff, but she seemed well enough and part of the knot in his stomach eased when she smiled at him; of course, that action brought on the heightened tempo of his heart, but that was a matter easily ignored for now.

"General Halycon," Weave had risen and moved to her. "Feeling better? We have some food – some local fare, not just ration cubes – if you're hungry."

After a pause she nodded, coming to the group to take a seat on one of the empty logs. Crest handed her a plate of food and they all watched her for a moment as she selected a small bunch of berries. Finally she looked up. "Am I that interesting, or did I sprout another head while I was sleeping?"

"You were wounded badly," Weave answered. "We're just a little surprised that you're...er, up and about so soon. Sir." His eyes flicked to her tunic, which was noticeably free of damage, though a little faded.

The Jedi nodded. "The Force is quite handy to have around in those situations," she remarked, chewing on the berries. "And a change of clothes helps, too. These are nice. Good find, guys." She glanced at the Gran before looking at Stonewall. "You haven't interrogated him yet, I take it?"

"No," he replied. "It's protocol to let the Jedi handle such matters." He watched the movement of her throat as she swallowed and noticed that her dark hair was falling out of the hasty plait she usually wore, spilling over her shoulders. "Traxis has offered his...assistance, if you want."

"I'm sure he has," she said, glancing at the scarred clone. "You weren't too rough on him, were you Trax? It would go easier if he was feeling slightly cooperative."

"I was a regular softie, General." Though his tone was sarcastic it held no malice. "Though that can be altered."

"There's no need to resort to violence."

"Because you have the Force, right General?" Milo's voice was eager as he leaned forward from his position across from her. "You can just look into his mind, right?"

"Perhaps," she replied, her tone thoughtful. "But I'd rather try just talking to him rather than use mind tricks." Her voice was quiet as she regarded them; so often Stonewall wondered what she thought when she looked at him and his brothers like she was doing right now. He detected nothing so much as curiosity from her: never once had she exhibited a trace of pity or disgust, as he had seen others do.

She had finished her food and rose to set her plate with the others, waving Milo's hand away as he reached for it. "Guys, just keep close by, if you would...Traxis, please put that blade away. Stonewall, will you help me?" He was beside her in a moment and they approached the unconscious Gran together, his brothers surrounding them in a loose formation. The Jedi knelt beside the bound alien and studied him for a moment before glancing at Weave. "Can you wake him?"

The clone pulled a device from his kit and stepped over to Gymir, placing the hypospray against his neck with a quick motion. The result was immediate: the Gran's three eyes fluttered and he leaned back against the tree with a groan, before he glared at the Jedi and her squad. "You'll get nothing out of me," he said, though his words were slurred. "Nothing."

She glanced at Weave again. "You overdid it on the tranquilizer; I can barely understand him."

"Sorry, General," the medic said. "I just wanted to make sure he wouldn't give us any trouble."

She made no reply, only continued to study their prisoner for several moments. Finally she spoke. "What kinds of weapons has Doctor Raphan helped the Separatists create?" His head lolled but his eyes on her were filled with venom and he made no response.

"Breen, you are quite firmly in our captivity," the Jedi added. "And, to be frank, you don't really have anything left to lose at this point, but you have much to gain by sharing what you know. Many, many lives could be saved and you could redeem yourself." The Gran continued to glower at her and she sighed. "You were once on track to be a revered scientist, Gymir. I've seen your file, seen all of the good work you've helped with...why are you willing to throw all of that away?"

The Gran's eyes shifted from side to side. "I...I'll never talk, Jedi. Do whatever you want to me...but I'll never say a word." Though his words held resolve, his voice wavered as he met her gaze.

"I think you stray from the question because you're afraid of the answer," she replied as if he had not spoken. "Why, I wonder?" Her eyes on him were fixed and unwavering. "What are you afraid of, Gymir?" After a moment, she reached forward and put the fingertips of her left hand against his arm; he flinched and tried to jerk away, but she remained in place. "I sense much fear in you."

Gymir closed his eyes to her gaze. "No..."

"What have you to gain by being responsible for the death of millions of innocents? Is this the life you wanted: being chased all over the Outer Rim by the Republic, away from your home and family?" Her voice was reassuring. "Please tell us what we need to know, Breen."

There was a long pause while she knelt beside the Gran; it was clear that he was struggling with some internal debate. Finally he spoke, though his voice was barely a whisper. "The jessamin," he said, his eyes still closed. "Look for the jessamin grove to the north..."

"The jessamin?" she repeated. "Is that where Doctor Raphan's lab is? Where can we find it?"

All of Stonewall's attention was on her, which was why Milo's voice caused him to start. "General, look out!" The Gran had wriggled something out of his left sleeve, something small and glinting in the fading light; his wrist flicked and he let out a groan before any of them could react, and his head fell forward like a rag doll.

Stonewall was beside him in the next moment, carefully pulling the slender vial from the dead man's hand. "Probably a toxin," he said, examining the container, which had a slender needle protruding from one end. He looked up at her; the Jedi was still knelt beside Gymir, studying him with an unreadable expression. "We let you down, General."

She met his eyes and shook her head. "I should have sensed his intent, Stone. It was my mistake." A frown creased her forehead as she reached for the vial, which he dropped into her palm after ensuring that the needle had retracted inside. "There are some markings on here that I can't make out," she said after a moment. "And there's still some fluid left. Can you analyze this, Weave?"

She passed the vial to the medic who nodded. "I'll get right on it, General. I'll look into the 'jessamin,' as well."

The Jedi looked back at Gymir. "Wasn't he searched before he was restrained?"

There was a beat as everyone glanced at Traxis without really meaning to; the scarred clone frowned. "Must have missed that. My apologies, General."

Milo looked outraged. "That's standard operating procedure...you cost us the mission!"

"Come over here and say that, _newbie_."

"Quiet, both of you," Stonewall pitched his voice to resonate around the camp. "Traxis, you need to review SOP involving the capture and restraint of prisoners. Milo – recon. Now."

"But I was just-"

"I said _now_, trooper. Make sure we won't get any surprises tonight." The captain watched as the younger clone replaced his helmet and slipped back into the forest; moments later Traxis and Crest were untying the Gran's body and getting it ready for transport while Weave began to set up his field analyzer. They had positioned the camp at the side of a hillock, giving them both cover as well as a decent view of the verdant blanket of the jungle if they desired. The Jedi had moved to the top of the hill and was surveying the view; many of the leaves were beginning to be gilded by the last rays of sunlight that had managed to filter through the ample cover.

Biting back a sigh, he approached her. "I take full responsibility for their errors, General," Stonewall said as he stood at attention by her side. "There's no excuse for what happened. We've failed our mission."

She did not respond for a moment, which – though mildly unsettling and often frustrating – was not unusual for her, as he was learning. Finally she looked at him. "It happens, Stone. No one's perfect. And don't lose hope: perhaps Weave can figure something out from the vial." Unexpectedly, she smiled at him. "Didn't I say something earlier about a court-marshal if you called me 'General' again?"

He blanched. "I thought you were joking?"

She thumped the armor plating at his back as she chuckled before turning back to the view, inhaling deeply. "Again...just call me 'Kalinda,' please. Or 'Kali.' I don't call you guys by your numbers or your rank, do I?"

"It's an indication of respect, of deference," he replied with a frown. "You are in command and deserve to be treated as such. After all, we're just following along." The final rays of the sun had begun to fall below the horizon, turning the sky to an faint purple; faint pinpricks of stars were just starting to be visible.

"Will you please take off your helmet, Stone?" He did so at once, tucking it under his arm as he regarded her with curiosity. She studied him a moment before giving him a small smile. "I understand that you and your brothers have been trained to respect and abide by a strict code of command," she began. "And I know that it's a big part of who you are." Her hand was on his arm before he knew what was happening, and he tried to ignore the way the last ray of light gilded the side of her face as she looked up at him. "But the Force tells me that _everyone_, you and your brothers included, is unique. It is a part of who _I _am to acknowledge this innate quality in every life-form."

Her hand lifted from his arm and for one insane moment he thought that she was going to touch his cheek, but it moved back to her side. "Through the Force," she continued, her head tilting to one side, which caused her dark hair to shift. "You are all different; you are all your own men."

Stonewall cleared his throat. "I'll try to remember that. Kalinda." It felt strange to say her name, but her answering smile was worth any discomfort. They stood side by side for several more minutes, watching the stars appear. Finally, he noticed a glow back at camp: someone had started the fire. He glanced at her. "Would you be up for some music tonight? They've all heard about Basrah and I think they'd enjoy it, especially since we've been on the hop since we started this mission; I've set up some perimeter alarms so we can take it a little easier tonight."

"Of course," she replied, giving him another smile that made his throat catch. "I think we all could use a little harmony after today."


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Traxis had stacked several dry logs in the center of the fire pit he'd dug earlier and was engrossed in the flames, adding bits of kindling and poking at it with a slender length of wood he'd set aside for the purpose. Milo had returned from his recon and was listening to Crest tell what was shaping up to be a highly inappropriate joke, while Weave remained to one side, bent over his field workstation. At the sound of the captain's approach the others looked up, Crest's joke fading as he caught Stonewall's stern look. Kalinda seemed not to notice the exchange as she slipped to her tent, coming out a moment later with her dulcimer.

She took a seat at one of the empty logs and began to tune the small instrument, the light from the fire flickering off of the polished wood of its rounded body. After a moment, Stonewall took a seat across from her while they waited for her to begin. From his seat to her left, Crest watched her, his chin in his hand. "Do you take requests, sir?"

"Depends on the request," she replied, glancing at him. "Is there something you want to hear?"

"Know any Mon Cal opera?"

At this she laughed. "Actually I do, but it's not exactly good campfire music. You need an orchestra to really pull it off." The notes from the dulcimer drifted through the air in seemingly random order until she was satisfied; at last she began to play in earnest. It was a melody that Stonewall had not heard before, though his knowledge of music was relatively basic, but the tune immediately captivated him. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he listened. When she started singing, he felt a strange sensation pass across his skin – a prickle, a shiver – as if danger was near, though he knew that wasn't the case. The sound of her voice was smoky and rich, containing a clarity that he had never before heard; later he couldn't recall any of the words but from that moment on the sound of her singing lodged itself firmly in his mind.

After the final notes of the song faded the clones broke into applause; even Traxis had moved his attention from the fire to the music, taking a seat by himself to Stonewall's left. She smiled at them and plucked a few of the strings absently. "No requests? Come on guys...I'm doing all the work here. The least you can do is give me a suggestion. Weave? What about you?"

They all turned to look at the medic, who was still at his workstation, though at her words he began walking towards the group. "Er..." he frowned. "I'm not very well-versed in music, General Halcyon." He looked at Crest as he took a seat next to the bald clone. "You like that one...about the dancing girls of Ryloth, right?"

Kalinda raised her eyebrow at Crest, who had the decency to look embarrassed. "_That's _certainly no opera." She toyed with the strings for a few more moments before casting another look at Stonewall. "Think you're up to taking on the rhythm?" The clone captain hesitated, even as the eyes of his men turned towards him. Finally he nodded and bent to pick up his helmet, which he'd used on Basrah – at her urging – as a makeshift drum. However, she shook her head and winked at him. "Check my tent; I came prepared this time."

It was highly unorthodox to enter your CO's quarters without them being present, but he simply nodded again, rising from his seat to slip to her little tent. There wasn't much in the way of personal items so he spotted the little dual-sided drum in a moment, smiling despite himself as he picked up the instrument. As he was turning to leave, a small glint of light caught his eye: it was a ring, made up of two spiraling strips of silver that looked as if they would wrap around the wearer's finger. He cast his mind back and recalled her wearing it on Basrah, though it was now discarded on her sleeping pallet. With a mental shrug, Stonewall exited the tent and made his way back to the fire, where she had managed to convince Weave to join the rest of the group. At his approach, she gave him another smile.

"You like it?"

He glanced at the drum; it was perhaps a third of a meter long, consisting of two smaller drums of different sizes lashed together and made to sit in the player's lap. The hide that was stretched across the surface of each looked to have held a pattern at some point, though persistent use had almost obliterated the geometric design. "I do." He moved to take his seat but she shook her head, indicating the place next to her.

The dulcimer paused while she showed him how to position the drums – called _tablas – _and the best way to strike at the taut surface. The resulting sound was deeper and more resonant than expected, and Stonewall found that he quite liked it. After a few tentative beats she nodded and glanced at the others, who were watching the exchange with interest. "Do any of you sing?" They gave her blank looks and she smoothed her hair back from her face. "Whistle? Hum? Clap your hands?"

At this, Crest and Weave exchanged glances before Crest spoke. "I've been known to whistle, if the mood strikes. Sir."

She turned her gaze to each of his men in turn: Weave politely bowed out of singing, but agreed to hum along while Milo lifted his hands to clap. "What about you, Traxis?"

The clone pursed his lips in consideration before he nodded. "I'll sing. Do you know any Mando'a songs?"

"A few," she replied. "Were you thinking of one in particular?" She straightened in her seat and regarded the scarred clone.

"_Dha Werda."_

Kalinda nodded slowly. "I think so...it starts like this...?" She struck a few chords on the dulcimer and sang: "_Taung sa rang broka..._"

Stonewall and the others nodded; it was a popular song among the clones and soon they had a fairly interesting melody going. Traxis' voice was solid and familiar – indeed, it was the voice they all shared – and soon enough Crest and Weave had joined in. It was an old song, one that normally involved no music except for the voices of the singers and the pounding of fists against armor: both one's own and that of one's brother. However, the dulcimer added a new layer, as did the pitch of her voice, and Stonewall found that he was enjoying himself as the song progressed, raising his own voice to automatically join the others. "_Dha Werda Verda a'den tratu..."_

After the final notes faded, Kalinda dropped the dulcimer to her lap and began applauding, grinning as she did so. "That was wonderful! Who knew that you all were such great singers? We'll have a proper band before too long if I have anything to say about it."

Weave ducked his head while Crest grinned back at her. "You're not so bad yourself, General."

"I can't remember the translation," she said, picking up her instrument again. "Something about 'the shadow warriors,' right?"

"'We are the rage of the Warriors of Shadow,'" Traxis replied, gazing at the flame before him. "'Let all those who stand before us light the night sky in flame; our vengeance burns brighter still.'"

* * *

Though she could have spent the entire night making music, Kalinda knew that Stone would be anxious to get the watch rotation started, so she stopped playing after about an hour or so; offering to take the first shift. Stonewall, however, wouldn't hear of it.

"You need to rest," he said, glancing at Weave for confirmation. "Traxis, why don't you and Weave take the first round? Milo and Crest can go next and I'll take the last." The others nodded and began disseminating; those on watch stepped to the camp's perimeter while the other two slipped into their tents.

Kalinda remained seated, pretending to study her dulcimer for several moments before she glanced at the clone captain who stood across the fire from her. "You're going to take the last watch alone? Isn't that against protocol?"

His pause told her that he was trying to determine if she was serious or not. Deciding to err on the side of caution, he shook his head. "Not really. Officers are permitted to take watch alone, provided they are not in a hostile situation."

"I guess I'll take your word for it," she said, rising. "'Night, Stone." As she made her way back to her tent, she could feel his attention on her, assessing her condition. _He's so cautious, _she thought as she settled the dulcimer back in its tattered case and drew the tent flaps closed. _Like any moment I'm going to fall apart again. _She looked around the tiny space and sighed. _Maybe he's right._ The pallet was not uncomfortable, but it may as well have been made of rocks as she tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep; images of Obi-Wan kept coming to her mind, memories and thoughts that refused to leave her in peace, even after weeks and weeks. After a while her fingers sought the ring that he'd given her long ago, a token of his affection that she hadn't been able to wear since Basrah, though she found that she was unable to leave it behind her.

The light from the fire was enough to cast the small object in stark relief against the fabric of the tent as she examined it. _Ben, _she thought, closing her eyes, her fist tightening around the cool silver. _You __broke my heart again...but it will be for the last time. _She tried to quiet her mind, tried to push the thoughts aside so that she could rest, as they would have much work to do the following day. Finally she was able to sleep for a little while, though her dreams were shifting and strange; at one point she woke up in a cold sweat, gasping and reaching for something that wasn't there. The memory of the dream faded once her eyes opened, leaving only wet streaks on the sides of her face and a mark on her palm where she had clutched the ring as the only indicators that it had ever existed.

After that, Kalinda found herself unwilling to lie awake in the darkness any longer, so she slipped out of the tent and made her way to the fire, which had receded to a glowing mass of embers. Her fingers were chilled, so she held her hands over the heat source for a few minutes, noting how quiet the jungle was at this time of night. _It's not ominous, though, _she thought, looking up at the patches of sky and moon she could make out through the canopy. _Just resting. _A sudden presence to her right made her turn her head; it was Stonewall, stepping in from the shadows. She gave him a small wave as he approached her.

"What time is it?"

There was a pause while he checked the chrono in his helmet before he replied. "Can't sleep?" he added.

She circled her knees with her arms and rested her chin on her elbows. "Not really." After a few moments her gaze slipped to the ring in her hand, which she didn't recall bringing out with her. "Can I ask you something, Stone?"

"Of course." He took a seat beside her, keeping a few handspans between them.

"Have you ever been in love?" The embers of the dying fire reflected in the visor of his helmet while he looked at her as if considering her words. Finally she shook her head, closing her fist around the ring. "Never mind; don't worry about it."

She heard a faint hiss as he unsealed the helmet and set it beside him. "No, I haven't. But," he paused. "From what I understand, it's kind of...hard to pin down." Like her, his gaze was on the remains of the fire. His eyes flicked to her briefly before returning to the embers. "I thought the Jedi weren't allowed to love?"

"Jedi aren't supposed to form attachments," she replied. "We can't get married and we're not supposed to have children. There are differing schools of thought on other matters." At his look of confusion she exhaled and shook her head. "We are not forbidden from forming...physical bonds," she continued. "And the Living Force can sometimes lead us to places that are akin to love. You know, I used to be so certain when I was younger. Now..." she swallowed hard and studied the ring in her hand. "Now I have no idea."

"That sounds rather complicated," he said after a moment. "I thought the Force was clearer than that."

She gave a wry smile even as she felt tears slipping down her face. "Me too." Turning from him, she wiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her tunic, trying to find her control, her calm. It didn't work. The log beneath her seat shifted slightly as he moved closer to her; a moment later she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Are you okay?" His voice was quiet, concerned. "Kalinda?"

Her entire face was hot, burning hot as though she was holding it directly against the flames. Kalinda dropped her head, the concern in his tone making it impossible to _stop _the blasted tears that refused to do anything but slide down her cheeks. Her breath was short and she could only clutch her arms at her sides in a physical attempt to pull herself together. She tried to speak, tried to murmur an apology or some other appropriate nicety, but her voice refused to work; finally she felt his hand squeeze her shoulder once, as if he was offering her strength. Without thinking she turned back to the clone and knelt into him; though his armor was hardly comfortable, in that moment he was perhaps the most solid object in the galaxy. Unexpectedly, his hand tightened on her shoulder.

They sat in silence for several minutes before she cleared her throat and took a deep, shaking breath. "I'm sorry, Stone," she managed to say, keeping her eyes lowered. "I know that this isn't how you wanted to spend your watch. I'll be fine." She moved to sit away from him and his hand on her shoulder lifted, though she thought for a moment that she could still feel it. He said nothing and she swiped at her eyes again, taking a few deep breaths to further steady herself. Her throat cleared before she glanced back at him. "I think I'll take you up on your offer."

He raised his eyebrow and she nodded to his Deece, resting at his feet. "It's time I learned to properly use one of those things," she said, keeping her tone as light as she could. "Perhaps I can keep myself from getting injured every other day."

"I'd be happy to show you." he replied, sitting up a little straighter and giving her a rare smile; she tried to ignore the fluttering in her chest at the expression. _What is wrong with me? s_he thought as she smiled back. For some reason the trace of stubble that had started to appear on his chin caught her eye, creating another distraction before she snapped herself out of it. _Why am I feeling this way, now, of all times?_

After a few more minutes she stood up and stretched, noting how he came to his feet the moment she did so. "I think I'll try to get some more sleep. You'll be okay on your own?"

He nodded after a beat. "Rest well, Kalinda." For a moment all she could hear was her name in his voice – his accent made him say it differently than she was used to – before she nodded to him and made her way through the darkness back to her tent.

* * *

It was several hours before dawn when Stonewall saw Weave rise from his tent and return to his workstation, setting his helmet on the table and aiming the headlamps to shed light over the area as he worked. "Learn anything interesting?" the captain asked as he approached his brother, who was in the process of peering at the slender vial through a microscope.

"Very," the clone replied, stepping back and indicating that Stonewall should take a look. As the captain did so, Weave elaborated. "I had just enough of the toxin to run through the analyzer – though it took _all_ night to give a reading," he added. "Anyway, it seems to be made of local flora – not unexpected – but there is a particularly high concentration of a certain flower: night-blooming jessamin, which is only found in a few locations on Japarran." Weave's eyes took on distant look as he considered something.

Stonewall bit back his impatience and waited for his brother to continue, which he did after several moments. "The extract is harmless in small doses, but research shows it to be highly toxic if distilled and concentrated; it can be dangerous as both an airborne toxin as well as injected into the bloodstream, though it is only contagious in its airborne form. Jessamin's versatility is part of its danger."

Stonewall nodded. "Great...but how does that help us find the doctor?" He hadn't been able to make heads or tails of the magnified liquid but he knew that his brother's patience with these things far exceeded his own.

"The problem is, I'm not sure exactly _where _on Japarran we can find it," he admitted. "But there is a chance that if we find the location of the night-blooming jessamin, we can find Raphan's lab, especially considering Gymir's last words." He frowned. "Of course, a wider-range scan would give us a better idea of where to start looking."

The captain nodded, absorbing the information. "Good work, Weave," he said after a moment, glancing at his brother.

"I only heard the last bit of that, but it sounded like a bunch of confusing nonsense," Traxis said, emerging from his tent. "Glad it's you dealing with those little scanners and not me, _vod._" He slipped into the woods without another word.

"You're welcome, Trax," Weave called out to his brother's retreating back. "Glad to know all my hard work is appreciated." He glanced at the two remaining tents. "Should I wake them? I think it's time for someone to start on breakfast, especially after I was up most of the night."

Stonewall nodded. "Have at it." Moments later, the remaining members of the squad were awake; Milo following Traxis' lead and slipping off to relieve himself while Crest and Weave argued good-naturedly about whose turn it was to cook. For his part, the captain checked their perimeter again, ensuring that none of the alarms they'd set had been deactivated or moved: all was well. When he returned to the camp, Kalinda was up and deep in discussion with Weave, who was undoubtedly reporting his findings.

"Weave, that's fantastic!" she exclaimed, casting an appreciative look at the workstation, heedless of the red that was creeping to the medic's cheeks. "I didn't think the field lab was capable of all that."

Weave swallowed. "Er...thanks, General. I made a few mods to some of the analyzers and enhanced the interface to the Republic's database; nothing fancy, but it gets the job done." He looked up at Stonewall's approach. "I don't think my scanners can search the entire planet for the jessamin, though."

"Can you use the one on the transport?" Kalinda asked. They'd landed on the planet with a long-range shuttle used for recon missions; as Crest had said, it looked like five kinds of hell, but it got you where you needed to go: they'd spent the better part of a day concealing it beneath the thick brush about ten klicks away to ensure that it would not be picked up by any enemy scanners.

"Perhaps," Weave replied, running his hand over his hair. "On their own the ones on the transport aren't nearly powerful enough, but perhaps I can interface with the portable ones..." Lost in thought, he trailed off before making his way back to the workstation; Kalinda shot Stonewall a grin as they met in the center of camp.

"I had no idea that he was so...technically-minded," she said. "He's an asset, to be sure. Good pick, Stone."

"Weave's been trained to sort out the more, specialized aspects of intel-gathering," he replied, feeling pleased with her words. "I worked with him before Basrah; he's a handy fellow to have around." He nodded to their long-range transmitter, set up several meters away from camp. "It's all set, if you want to go ahead and contact the Temple."

He noted how her expression changed and became more guarded, though she thanked him. As he was turning to go, she said his name. "Would you mind staying?"

"Of course," he replied, remaining at her side and folding his arms behind his back.

Soon she had opened a secure channel to Coruscant and was facing the flickering, blue forms of Generals Kenobi and Windu, the latter of whom regarded her with interest. "General Halcyon," the dark-skinned Jedi said. "Have you captured Doctor Raphan?"

She paused. "No, Master. We did capture his associate, a Gran named Breen Gymir, but he took his own life before we were able to get any substantial information as to the doctor's whereabouts or his projects."

General Windu sighed and leaned back. "That is unfortunate. His reputation showed him to be something of an honorable man, regardless of what he has become recently. I had hoped that he would talk."

"Me too," she replied, her eyes fixed on Windu. "However, we did learn something useful, if unsettling." Stonewall watched as she told them of the jessamin toxin and noticed that General Kenobi leaned forward when she described her injury, though the Jedi Master made no comment as she continued. "Weave thinks that we can track down the location where this toxin is being created," she said. "Our next step is to scan the surface for a concentration of the jessamin flower – hopefully it will lead us to a resolution."

The Jedi masters glanced at one another. "Impressive work, Kalinda," General Kenobi said after a moment. "You are...unharmed?" He looked at her and she at him; beneath the sleeves of her tunic, Stonewall could see her knuckles were white as she clenched her fists. "Do you require assistance?" There was an edge of concern to his voice.

"No," she replied curtly, though she frowned and spoke again, her tone even. "No, thank you. That won't be necessary, Master Kenobi. I'm fine."

But General Kenobi seemed unconvinced. "Are you certain?" He was still watching her intently, his eyes fixed on her face.

In response she shook her head, and Stonewall got the impression that she was willing herself not to interact with General Kenobi any more than she had to. "I'll report once we have more information on the lab," she said at last, her tone brisk as she looked back at Master Windu. "Is there anything else?"

"No, my old Padawan," General Windu said after a moment. "Keep us up to date on your progress." With that, the Jedi signed off and Kalinda let out a deep sigh, shooting a look at Stonewall.

"I'm glad _that's _over with," she said. "Thanks for sticking around."

Nodding, Stonewall followed her back towards the others. "It's going to take Weave a few hours to set up the scanners," he said. "We can start a little target practice in the meantime, if you like."

"Sounds good." She took another deep breath and sniffed at the air. "Smells like breakfast," she added, indicating the camp. "Shall we?"


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

"Take Milo with you to the transport," Stonewall said to his brother as Weave loaded up his equipment. "He can help you set all that up. Don't forget to check in."

Weave nodded and glanced at the younger clone. "Great. You can grab that crate." He indicated a large, metal crate beneath the workstation. "But be careful – I spent all night calibrating those instruments."

"You were calibrating something, all right," Crest chuckled. "Er...sorry, sir" he amended at Stonewall's sharp glance.

Kalinda watched the exchange with interest, though she made no comment. Instead, she glanced at Weave. "Do you have to scan from atmo, or can you manage from the surface? I'd like to avoid making ourselves overly noticeable, if possible."

The clone shook his head. "I'll try from the surface, but I'm really not sure. We may not be able to get a broad enough range." He glanced at Milo, who was lifting the crate as though it was made of glass. "Come on, shiny. We don't have all day."

"Oh, come on!" the younger clone protested. "I've got camo all over my kit...it's not shiny anymore..." His voice faded as the two clones set off into the jungle at a jog.

Kalinda glanced at Stonewall. "Care to start the first lesson now?"

He raised his Deece and nodded. "Sure. Do you want to learn on this, or see if Trax has something more to your liking?"

At the sound of his name, Traxis looked up from the blaster cannon that he'd been disassembling and cleaning. "You need weapons?"

"Here he goes," Crest said with a sigh, shaking his head at Kalinda. "You'll never get him to shut up, now."

"I want to learn to be better with a blaster," she replied. "Stone's going to give me a few pointers."

Nodding, Traxis ducked into his tent, appearing a moment later with a slender blaster pistol, which he handed to her, hilt first. "Try the LL-30 instead of the Deece. It's smaller, but it packs one hell of a punch." Stonewall frowned as she examined the weapon: the barrel was slender and elegant, with a small scope affixed to the top.

"Where'd you pick that up, Trax?"

The scarred clone shrugged. "I have my ways, Captain." He looked back at Kalinda. "It's not standard issue, General, but I think it'll suit you; it's made of an alloy that won't overheat, so you can fire as fast and as much as you want. It's charged up and ready to go."

"Thanks, Traxis," she replied. "It feels comfortable." Indeed, it was more suited to her smaller hands than the Deece; her fingers away from the trigger, she raised it and squinted as she looked through the scope. "This will come in handy. Let's go try it out, shall we?"

Stonewall glanced at his men. "You two stay here and keep an eye on things in case Weave and Milo need assistance."

Traxis nodded and returned to his cannon, but Crest shot a knowing look at Stonewall, who was watching as the Jedi continued to examine the pistol. "You sure you'll be alright, Captain?" His tone was polite, but there was merriment in his eyes.

Before he could reply, Kalinda looked up. "Come on, Stone. Let's get a move on." She indicated one of the game trails that lead into the thick jungle. "There's a field that way, right?"

"There is," he replied, ignoring Crest's grin. "I'll be right with you." He glanced back at his brother, who was chuckling to himself. "Keep your mind on the mission," he said before he turned to follow her.

"Oh, I will, Captain," he heard his brother reply. "I just wonder if you will, too."

* * *

It had been years since Kali had used a blaster of any kind, so she was concerned that she would make a fool of herself with the new addition to her "kit," as Stone had said. However, she had the Force as an ally, which increased the accuracy of her aim to something that was akin to being passably competent, though she was having trouble adjusting to the actual mechanics of using the device. Though it weighed about the same as her saber, the LL-30 felt strange in her hand; the balance was uneven and its high-pitched sound was distracting.

They were in a wide field about five klicks from the camp; she had used the Force to draw some heavy boulders to one side to act as targets, most of which were already blotted with scorch-marks from the exercise. Stonewall stood beside her, offering suggestions and pointers. "Keep your elbows relaxed, but not so much that the kickback jolts you from your position," he was saying as she fired at the middle boulder. "Absorb the force of it with your legs, let the energy pass through your body and into the ground."

Her teeth gritted; it was more difficult than she remembered and with each shot she felt herself getting thrown off balance. "Trax was right," she said after a few minutes. "This thing really does pack a wallop." She paused to wipe a trickle of sweat off of her forehead; though it wasn't supposed to overheat, that apparently didn't mean that the blaster wouldn't get uncomfortably hot_, _and combined with the open sunlight, she was feeling a little too warm.

"You just need to brace yourself," Stonewall replied, his voice patient. "Here, like this." He moved into the appropriate stance, planting his feet firmly into the ground beneath him. "See how my legs are slightly bent? That'll provide you with some cushioning, in addition to supporting your body from the kickback."

She tried to mimic him, but was again made to stumble as the shots from the blaster ripped through the air. "_Chuff-sucking...fragging piece of grist_..." she muttered as she tried again. Sighing, she glanced at Stonewall, who was looking at her in surprise. "Pardon my language," she said wryly, swiping at her forehead again. " Just because I'm a Jedi doesn't mean I don't know how to swear, you know, and this thing is more trouble than it looks."

An amused look crossed his face and he gave her another smile. "Want me to show you again?" She nodded and took the stance; he hesitated for one moment before he approached her. "Your legs are too far apart," he said. "And you need to drop your shoulders..."

"That's what I thought I was doing."

"Here," he said; he put his hands on her shoulders and positioned them in the appropriate way before kneeling before her to adjust her knees and legs. His touch was light and professional, but she still felt a flush of heat creep across her body. "That's better," he nodded, looking up at her. "Try again."

_This is strange, s_he thought, aiming for the nearest boulder. _It's been a long time since I felt so...flustered. _The blaster fire rang through the air and she remained in place, though she looked down at him with a grin. "I did it!"

As if realizing that he was still kneeling he stood up quickly, nodding once. "Well done, Gen...er, Kalinda." There was a moment where they looked at one another before he cleared his throat. "Want to try again?" She nodded; they continued for perhaps another half-hour before she paused to wipe at her forehead.

"How can you stand it?" she asked him. "That armor must be unbearable."

"It's temp controlled," he replied. "With the helmet, I'm pretty comfortable."

_Of course,_ she thought with a nod. _I knew that. _"Well, I'm about to melt," she said. "Let's take a break, okay?" They walked to the edge of the field, taking cover from the sun in the shade of the forest. Setting the blaster on a nearby rock, Kali leaned against a slender tree and began trying to tame her hair into some semblance of order. _No matter how many times I braid it, it just does what it wants, _she thought as she gathered up the unruly strands. _I should just chop it all off. _A vision of Obi-Wan lying beside her, smiling as he ran his hands through her hair caused an ache in her heart that was becoming too familiar. _I need to let go, or these memories will consume me._

Trying to push the feeling aside, she pulled her hair off of her neck and glanced at the clone captain, who had taken the pistol and was examining it about a meter from where she stood. "I like it," she said, nodding to the weapon. "It's...different, but in a good way."

"You think you'll want to hang on to it?" Stonewall met her gaze as he held it out to her.

Her hand wrapped around the handle of the pistol and she smiled at him. "I'm thinking about it."

They didn't speak for a few minutes; the air was thick with the buzz of unseen insects and the faint rustling of the wind in the treetops. Kalinda closed her eyes and reached out with the Force and allowed herself to get a little lost in the energies that permeated the area: there was a trio of small birds in the branches above her head whose thoughts were focused on the catching and eating of glittering beetles; a spindly-legged herbivore of some kind lay in a thicket to her right, keeping still and quiet even as its heart pounded furiously – on impulse she brushed its mind with her own, hoping to sooth its nerves; the tree she was leaning against had cast its roots deep into the earth in search of water and for a moment she could feel cool moisture against her own skin.

A measure of peace overcame her at last, chasing the anxiousness from her mind as she relaxed into the Force. It was then that she became aware of Stonewall's attention, which was presently centered on her. Though she normally didn't advocate the act, she found herself tempted to peek into his mind, just to see what he was thinking about. _No,_ she thought after a moment. _That's not fair. He's not a datapad for me to read. _Instead, she opened her eyes and looked at him; he had not moved from his position but his eyes lowered at her gaze and she knew he'd been watching her. "Are you thirsty? I think there's a stream nearby."

Nodding, he moved to follow her as she slipped through the trees. Neither of them made a sound as they walked, their passage barely marked on the forest floor, though it was thick with dried leaves. At last they reached the source of the water that Kalinda had sensed from the tree; she removed her boots, rolled up her leggings and, after a pause, shed the outermost layer of her tunic before stepping into the shallow stream that moved across the area with only a faint trickle. Birds sung above their heads and she sighed as the cool water circled her legs while Stonewall remained on the rocky edge, rinsing and filling his canteen. She cupped her hands and knelt to catch some of the clear water in her palms, drinking deeply before she looked back at him. "Nice, isn't it? I think I could get used to Japarran."

"It's beautiful," he replied, though his eyes had been fixed on her; in the next moment he looked embarrassed and glanced at the surrounding area. "This place, I mean. I've never been anywhere quite like it."

"Where have you been?"

He lifted his hand and began ticking off the worlds as he spoke. "Kamino, of course; Coruscant, Hypori, Rhen Var, Basrah, Teyr, Muunilist, and Geonosis."

She started at the last name. "You were at the Battle of Geonosis?"

"My squad was sent there by mistake," he said. "Our training wasn't finished yet, but there was some kind of...mix-up and we got pushed in."

"I thought they only sent the fully-trained soldiers to battle," she said, keeping her tone neutral. "How old were you?"

"Nine years, four months and fifteen days," he replied. "Was a shame too; we would've beaten the hell out of that graduation exam." There was no hint of anything in his voice that might indicate bitterness or self-pity; his thoughts were without anger, though she detected a note of sorrow.

Swallowing, she stepped through the water towards him. "I thought the Kaminoans didn't make mistakes."

He shrugged. "No one's perfect, I guess." She could tell that there was more to it than that, but he didn't offer the information so she left it alone. Instead, he looked down at her and she was suddenly very aware of the fact that she was wearing only her leggings and a sleeveless shirt over her undergarments. She turned and pretended to search for some unseen creature in the brush, trying to quiet her heart, which had started racing.

Finally she looked back at him. "I'm sorry for last night," she said quietly. "I didn't mean to lay all of..._that_ on you." She frowned. "But thank you for being there."

"Anytime," he replied. "That's what shoulders are for, aren't they?"

No ready reply came to her mind so she nodded; they stood before one another for several minutes, the only noises were the singing birds and the ripple of the water at her feet. As she was about to speak to him again, his comlink chirruped. Weave's image appeared a moment later, crouched in the seat of their transport. "General Halcyon, Captain," he said, his eyes on the screen in front of him. "I've found what appears to be the largest concentration of jessamin in this area of the planet. It's actually not far from here..." His voice trailed off as he glanced from the screen to a datapad in his lap.

"Weave?" Stone said. "Where is the jessamin?"

"Hmmm? Oh, sorry, Captain. I'll give you the coordinates." After he did so, Kalinda looked up at Stone.

"That's not far from where we are," she said to him. "Weave, are you done on the transport? We should check it out." She reached for her boots and tunic.

"We're done," the medic replied. "Milo and I will meet you and the Captain there. Want us to collect the others on our way?"

Stonewall nodded. "Sounds good, Weave. Thanks. See you soon." When the transmission ended, he looked back at Kalinda. "Ready to go?"

"Absolutely," she replied, turning towards the forest.

* * *

She broke into a run and the clone captain found that he was hard-pressed to keep up with the Jedi, who movements were blurred with her speed. Despite the situation, Stonewall found himself glancing at her as they hurtled through the forest, watching the grace with which she moved; he had seen a fair number of Jedi in his short life and was always impressed with their speed and skill, but she was different in his mind. Even running as she was he could detect the slight limp in her left leg and found himself wondering if it bothered her very often. Earlier, at the stream, he'd noticed a puckered scar on her knee, though he'd been reluctant to ask about it.

When she stopped it was sudden and immediate, holding up her hand as she looked around the thick jungle that surrounded them. Her dark eyes met his and she indicated a hillock that rose before them; he followed her lead as she crouched down and began creeping towards it. "What is it?" he asked, keeping his voice quiet. "Do you sense something?"

Nodding, she pointed to the hillock. "Something's there," she whispered. "Something big."

"The lab?" He lifted his Deece; it was only at about eighty percent power after their target practice, but it would have to do.

She paused. "I'm not sure," she admitted after a moment. "It's difficult to say, but there is definitely _something _ahead." He tried to bite back his frustration and she cast him a smile. "Relax, Stonewall," she said. "We'll figure it out. How far away are the others?"

Using the link in his helmet, he called to his brothers. "The General thinks we're here. What's your ETA?"

Crest answered first. "We're only about fifteen minutes from your position, Captain. We'd be closer if Traxis didn't insist on bringing enough weaponry to take down an entire army."

"That's why I'm here, _di'kut,_" Traxis growled. "You might want to remember that."

Milo's voice sounded next. "We'll be there soon, Captain."

Stonewall signed off and relayed the information to Kalinda, who nodded but made no response. Neither of them spoke for a moment; indeed, the forest had gone odd and quiet again, a sure sign that something wasn't right. He shifted. "I have to tell you, I don't like this. At all."

"Me either," she replied. "But...wait...look..." Her voice had dropped to a whisper and both of them fixed their attention on the hillock before them; there was a faint, metallic sheen behind the trees and bushes; upon closer inspection there appeared to be a massive door of some kind. "It must be the lab," she murmured to herself before glancing up at him again. "If he's in there," she said. "It's imperative that we immobilize him as soon as we can: I don't want to take any chances with the good doctor and his 'creations.'"

Stonewall nodded. "Me either." They waited for another few minutes before her head lifted and she looked behind them; moments later his men appeared from the brush, crouched low and moving with caution as they met the Jedi and the captain.

"We didn't want to come barging up," Weave said as he fell in place behind Stonewall. "Just in case."

Crest leaned forward, a grenade in his hand. "Are you sure we can't just blow it up?"

Kalinda frowned and he remembered that she couldn't hear them. _Probably for the better,_ he thought. _Though I wish I'd thought to get her an earpiece. _"We need to take it easy," he said over his mic. "If Raphan is in there, we'll need to take him down first."

"Great," Crest said. "But _is _this guy even in there?"

"In theory he should be," Weave added.

Stonewall glanced at the Jedi, who had closed her eyes, a look of concentration on her face. Finally her eyes opened and she nodded. "I think he's there," she whispered. "But I'm not sure where exactly."

"Better than nothing, I guess," Traxis replied, rising to his feet. However, Kalinda put a hand on his arm.

"Wait one second..." Her eyes closed once more and he could tell that she was accessing the Force. Moments later the others let out a noise of surprise as what looked to be a rippling sheen of energy surrounded them, though Stonewall recalled their first mission together on Basrah where she had created a Force-shield that had kept them safe in the cold of open space.

Milo gasped. "Wow..."

"_Holy kriffing hell_," Crest whispered, glancing around at the shield. "_That's_ handy little trick."

"Whatever gets us in there faster," Traxis said, his blasters lifted.

Weave looked at the Jedi, but said nothing. When she opened her eyes again, there was a familiar glint as she looked at the captain. "_Now _we can go," she said, casting them all a quick smile. "Just stay close to me."

_That won't be a problem, _Stonewall thought as he nodded. Together the squad rose and made their way to the door, which Weave managed to open with a few adjustments to the security panel, allowing the group to slip inside. They stood for several moments in absolute darkness, the only sounds being the faint sound of Kalinda's breathing though it seemed to get sucked away by the void.

Stonewall switched the HUD in his helmet to night vision and surveyed their location. "There's some kind of long corridor," he said quietly. "I think it goes for about forty meters to our right, slanting down like it goes underground. Can't make out anything beyond that. I can switch on the headlamps to give us some light."

"Not yet." She was still beside him, her hand was on his arm. "I think he's close," she whispered. "There's a certain...malevolence in the air. I don't want to take any chances." The night-vision of his HUD gave her skin a lambent glow.

"Shall we investigate?" he asked; behind him, his brothers shifted and he could almost feel their eagerness to get going.

Saber in one hand, blaster in the other, Kalinda nodded. "Let's do it."


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

The duracrete corridor was completely silent save for the sound of her breath and the clones' footfalls as they advanced through the darkness. Kalinda found herself wishing for a helmet like Stone's; though the Force was useful in these situations she longed to be able to really see where they were going. However, she took solace in the fact that Stone and the others could see as well as his solid presence at her side, a feeling that she found herself growing accustomed to. After several long minutes in the narrow corridor she felt the space around them widen a little.

Weave confirmed the fact. "It's not a large area," he said. "Only about five meters across." She felt the clones pause around her; reaching out with the Force, she detected a presence – Human male – in an area adjacent to their position.

_He knows we're here, _she realized. _Blast._

Before she could say something, Milo spoke. "What's that?" Indeed, there was a quiet, scraping sound from a location to their right. Suddenly there was a blinding light as several doors alongside the outer edges of the room slid open to reveal a cadre of armed battle droids that began to open fire on the squad.

Crest let out a curse before he removed a small grenade from his belt and raised his arm to toss it into the fray of droids before them. "Take that, you scrap heaps!" A series of bright glares erupted from Traxis as he raised his blasters and began firing while Weave followed suite with his Deece. Milo had moved to take position from behind a shelf and was returning the fire as well; Stonewall remained at her side, his blaster lifted. Between all of them, many of the droids were falling, though more and more seemed to stream in from the rooms beyond.

Nearly blinded by the sudden light and blaster fire, Kalinda ignited her saber, the yellow blade springing to life with a hiss. As she moved to deflect the bolts of the droids that had caught them off guard she caught a glimpse of the room beyond and saw a Human figure within. _Raphan, _she thought, glancing at the troops behind her. _I must reach him. _With the blaster, she fired on several of the droids that stood between her and the next room, taking a grim satisfaction as the clankers fell in a smoldering pile. _This thing _is _handy._

Stone and the others had made their way to a stack of crates off to one side which provided a measure of cover. "Over here, Kalinda," he called out.

But she had made her decision. "Raphan...he's in that room," she called. "I'm going after him." She leaped towards the open door and landed inside the bright room, ignoring the sharp twinge in her left knee as she did so, instead surveying the room and her opponent; the moment she righted herself she realized that she was standing in the intense light of the main laboratory. Everything was white or gleaming silver, from the tiled walls to the smooth series of tables that were placed at even intervals throughout the room. Several medical-grade service droids stood to one side and she could see that their spidery hands were clutching stacks of datapads.

But all of this was only dimly registered in the back of her mind as she stood face to face with the notorious Doctor Nes Raphan. From the next room, Kali could hear the clones still firing on the droids, though all of her attention was now on the bald man they'd been pursuing for weeks. "You are under arrest, Doctor," she said, her weapons raised. "You will return to Coruscant with us." _One day that line's actually going to work, _she thought as she held the man's gaze. _Of course, by then Mustafar will probably be frozen over._

"_You're _the Jedi who has caused so much trouble?" His Coruscanti accent was a polished lilt that held no warmth. "From Gymir's description, you sounded more...imposing." As she'd seen from the holovids, he was a gaunt man of above-average height. The bright lights of the lab reflected off of his bare skull as he chuckled and shook his head; he was dressed in a white lab coat that had seen better days, the edges were dirty and frayed with several stains along the front. His hands were in his pockets.

Kalinda ignored his jibe. "It's over, Raphan," she said. "You're coming with us. Show your hands." She could hear the final droids falling, followed immediately by the sounds of the clones as they entered the lab to flank her.

"Hey boss," Crest said from her left. "I see you found our wayward Seppie."

"Shut up, Crest," Traxis replied, a large blaster trained on the doctor, Weave standing beside him.

Milo was behind her; she felt fear and uncertainty rolling off of him, though he said nothing.

Stonewall came to her side and she felt his relief at seeing her in one piece like a tangible wave; his presence in turn fortifying her own strength. She spoke again. "There's no point resisting any more, Doctor. Your droids are scrapped and we've got you surrounded." Through the Force she reached out to him, trying to soothe his anger and perhaps urge him to relax his guard. "You hands," she said again. "Raise them."

The bald man shook his head. "You're a fool, like every other member of you little Order. You think to use Jedi tricks on me?" His laughter was sharp, a keen-edged blade. "You follow a trail of lies and falsehoods, _Jedi._ I pity you, yes, but not so much as I pity those in your thrall." He nodded to Stonewall and his brothers. "They will all die under your command, but they are too stupid to know or even understand." As he spoke, she could see his right hand moving within his pocket and the Forced trilled a warning in her mind.

In the next moment, Milo panicked and lifted his Deece to open fire on the Doctor, causing Kalinda to glance at him; it was then that Raphan's hand shot out of his coat pocket and she felt a small prick of pain at her neck an instant later. Fear flared within her before she pushed the feeling aside; instead, she reached out with the Force and tried to shove the doctor back into the wall. But she was already starting to feel weak and dizzy, stumbling forward and collapsing to her knees. As the clones turned to her the metallic scraping sound of a door being forced open reached them; Raphan had used the moment's distraction to attempt an escape.

"Don't let him get away," Kalinda said to her men. "That's an order." At her words the clones sprang after the doctor, following him through a small opening in the wall.

Except for Stone, who remained at her side, his hand on her shoulder. "Kalinda?"

"Don't let him..." Her voice refused to work and she knitted her brows in frustration. "Stone..." There was a feeling of numbness that was starting to creep through her body, starting at her fingertips and toes and making its way for her heart. She felt herself being lifted up as Stonewall took her in his arms and began to carry her to the door.

"I'm getting you out of here."

Her vision was swimming and she heard a strange thudding sound that she dimly recognized as her own heartbeat. _At least it means I'm not dead yet,_ she thought, turning to look at the room where the clones had decimated the droids. She wondered if the others had caught the doctor, but when she tried to vocalize the thought to her captain, no sound came out. _No, _she thought, reaching into the Force. _No, I will not die like this. _She closed her eyes and felt the Force thrumming within and around her, giving her the strength to push the numbness away from her heart.

Suddenly there was an almost deafening boom that made the entire room shudder, a blast of heated air following in its wake, and she felt herself falling to the ground as Stonewall shielded her body with his own, even as she managed to call up her Force shield one more time. Debris from the droids began falling around them, bits of smoldering metal landing just beyond their prone figures and casting everything in a dim, orange glow; she was thankful for the shelter of his body. After several minutes, however, when the air grew still once more he looked down at her as if he was speaking, though no sound came out. "I think your mic's broken," she said, though she was certain that the words were slurred.

There was a hiss as he unsealed his helmet. "My comlink's broken," he replied, his gaze on her. "Are you okay?" Their faces were inches apart, the hard press of his armored body acute against her own.

She paused. "For the moment," she said. "But it's getting a little hard to breathe..." He winced and pushed himself up off of her, offering her his hand and activating his headlamps once she was upright, the glow at waist-level as he held his helmet at his side. The rooms were dark, as the blast had sealed the door they'd just come from and disabled the lights of the room in which they had found themselves.

"I hope that was Crest's doing," he said. "I can't reach any of them." He looked back at her, his face illumined in the glow from his headlamps. "Kalinda...are you okay?" Her knees had given way again and her hands pressed into the cold grit of the floor.

The dizziness had not left with the numbness, it had gotten worse. There was also now a dull ache in her stomach that had started to seep away her focus, sawing at her connection to the Force. "You didn't see?"

"What?" There was fear in his voice as he knelt beside her. "Kali..."

Her hand lifted to her neck; she could feel a small, hot swell on her skin. "He hit me with something." She raised her eyes to his, noting their remarkable honey-brown color with a pang. "Stonewall; I've been poisoned."

* * *

It was not the best course of action, but it would have to do. Weave followed the doctor through the small ventilation shaft, amazed at the elder Human's agility and speed as he slid through another entrance and landed in the corridor through which the clones had entered the facility. It was still dark as pitch, but a blink in his HUD activated Weave's headlamps and illuminated the area.

Crest seemed to share the sentiment. "Pretty quick for an old coot, huh?" With his left hand he lifted his Deece, his right hand clutched a grenade.

"Not quick enough," Traxis said from behind them. "Not by a long shot." Even as he ran, his blaster rifle was at his shoulder, aimed at the doctor's retreating form.

The doctor had reached the end of the shaft and was attempting to slip out of the nearest door and into the jungle beyond. As the clones reached his position, he held up his hand to reveal a small, cylindrical device. "One more step and I blow the place to oblivion," he said. "And your precious Jedi with it." Night was starting to fall and the sounds of birds and insects reverberated through the jungle, tinted almost violet by the setting sun.

"Our orders were to capture you," Weave replied, though he felt a stab of fear at the thought of the General and the Captain being harmed. "Nothing you say can change that."

In response, the Human male glared at him and pushed the button at the top of the device; moments later an explosion shuddered through the building behind them. Milo let out a cry of disbelief just before he lunged at the Human male. "No!"

"Kriff this," Traxis growled, raising his rifle and firing a single shot at the doctor's upper thigh. "This _chakaar _is going down one way or another." Raphan collapsed to his knees with a cry, clutching at his leg and Traxis lowered his blaster with a nod of satisfaction. "Single shot. And that's how you do it," he said. "Were you taking notes, newbie?"

In a moment Milo had cuffed the doc, though he was still looking at the lab beyond them. "Can anyone get a hold of the Captain? I can't."

Weave had been trying to no avail. "No," he said, looking at the others, who shook their heads. He sighed and looked at the doctor, who was still groaning in pain. Fishing a hypospray out of his belt he knelt before the bald man. "I can help with that," he said, indicating the injury. "Provided you tell me how much of your facility is left. How big of a blast was it?"

Raphan's eyes on his visor were filled with venom. "I don't talk to clones," he spat. "But you can rest assure that nothing in that bunker is alive, anymore, especially your precious Jedi. The jessamin will take care of her." Rolling his eyes, Weave injected the tranquilizer into the man's neck; his head lolled to one side as he quieted.

Milo spoke first. "What now?"

Crest stepped over. "We've captured the doctor," he said. "We've followed orders." His voice was without levity and his shoulders slumped.

"Let's contact the Jedi," Weave added with a nod. "They'll tell us what to do." He thought of the General, her lightsaber flashing in the darkness, and felt his throat tighten. _It's not fair, _he thought. _We shouldn't have left her or the captain. But what else could we do?_

"But the General and Captain may be alive," Milo replied, his voice panicked. "We can't leave them!" He turned as if to race back into the bunker, but was stopped by Traxis, who put a hand on the younger clone's shoulder in an uncommon gesture of camaraderie; when the scarred clone spoke there was nothing but remorse in his voice.

"_Vod'ika_, there's nothing left in that place. It's war. That's just how it goes sometimes."

Milo looked at Crest, who shook his head. "A blast that big..." He spread his hands. "I'd say no one could have survived it." They all turned and looked at the facility behind them; smoke was rising from the crumpled, twisted durasteel and Weave could feel residual waves of heat from the blast even through his armor.

"Come on," Weave said. "Let's get back to the camp." He watched as Traxis and Crest gathered up the doctor's unconscious form. "Though I'm not looking forward to relaying the message." As the clones began to head into the jungle, Milo remained, still looking at the smoldering wreckage. "Come on, Milo," Weave called to his brother. "There's no use holding on to hope. They're gone, but we still have a job to do." The younger clone's head dropped, but he nodded and turned to follow his brothers back towards the camp.

It was actually the very last thing that he wanted to do, but as the squad medic, it was Weave's job to inform the Jedi Temple of the fate of the Jedi and the Captain. Once they reached camp, it took him a few minutes to set up the long-range transmitter and contact Coruscant on one of the secure Republic channels; the images of Jedi Masters Mace Windu and the diminutive Yoda appearing before him. Master Windu raised his brow at Weave. "Trooper? What is it?"

After giving his numeric designation, Weave relayed the information. "Generals: this is Sergeant Weave, formerly under the command of Captain Stonewall and General Halcyon, calling from the planet Jabarran. Sirs, I regret to inform you that the General and Captain have been killed in the line of duty, following the capture of Doctor Nes Raphan, who is currently in our custody. The doctor activated an explosion in his lab where they were located." He faltered here, but a deep breath brought him a measure of composure.

The Human Jedi leaned forward,his hands on his knees, his voice almost inhumanly calm. "What happened? How exactly was General Halcyon killed?"

Weave took another breath and relayed the information that the doctor had told them. "He shot her with some of the jessamin toxin, sir," he said. "From what we know of it, she died within a few minutes of infection. The Captain was with her when the blast went off and we cannot reach him on our comms." Despite himself he felt his chest tighten. "No one could have survived an explosion that big...I'm sorry, Generals."

The Jedi exchanged glances and Master Yoda's large eyes closed for a moment while Master Windu's gaze seemed fixed to the floor in front of him. Finally he looked back up at Weave, who was struck by the intensity of the Jedi's dark gaze. "Thank you for your information," he said. "We'll – "

"Sirs, I don't believe they're dead," Milo had appeared next to Weave, saluting once as he spoke. "I believe they could have survived."

Master Windu's eyes flicked to Milo, then back to Weave. "You saw General Halcyon get hit with the toxin?"

Weave nodded. "Affirmative, General." He shot Milo a glare. "And I felt the tremors from that blast: the chances of survival are impossible."

Milo let out a noise of frustration. "I won't believe it."

"Difficult to accept, the truth often is," Master Yoda said, his voice quiet. "But always necessary to do, it must be." He looked at the other Jedi, whose eyes had closed for a brief moment. "Mourn her loss, we will. _There is no death, there is the Force."_


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

At her words, Stonewall thought that his own heart would stop. After a moment he brushed the hair back from her neck to examine the wound; what should have been an intimate, tender gesture was tainted by the visualization of the swollen skin that indicated the truth of her words. Stonewall felt his entire body sag with disbelief. "Kalinda...I failed you."

Then he felt the soft press of her hand on his cheek, though her skin was cool. "No, my brave soldier," she said, her voice quiet. "You saved me." At her words he frowned; as he was about to ask her what she meant she closed her eyes and took a shallow breath. "It's getting hard to breathe in here," she said. "Is there any way out? I have no wish to remain down here in the darkness."

"I should get help." His helmet was back on his head.

Her laughter was quiet. "I think it's a little late for that. I just want some fresh air."

He was on his feet in an instant. Within a few moments he found another exit; though it the tunnel had partially collapsed from the explosion there looked to be enough room for him to carry her through. Returning to her side, he lifted her in his arms and began to walk, trying to ignore the wrenching in his gut at how pale and fragile she looked. After several minutes her eyes opened and she looked up at him. "Say something. I need a distraction."

He carried her down the corridor, the light from his headlamps illuminating the dust motes in their path. "Where do you think this goes?" he asked after a moment.

"I don't really care," she replied. "As long as I can breathe some fresh air. I'm not a big fan of caves or underground places," she explained with another glance at him. "Ever since my master was killed."

"I thought that General Windu trained you?" he asked as he walked. The way was slanting upward, his footsteps echoed around them.

She nodded. "After Jonas died, he took on the role." There was a pause while she considered something before continuing. "Stars...it's been almost twenty years now. Time flies, I guess." Neither of them spoke until they reached the end of the tunnel; the metallic door would not open until she fumbled for her saber and handed it to him. "You can cut through with this," she said. "Just try not to slice any limbs off, okay?"

Any other time he would have been both honored and humbled to wield the Jedi weapon but right now he was focused on other things; setting her down on a nearby rock he activated the energy blade. He plunged it into the durasteel, molten metal rippling in the wake of the brilliant yellow saber as it carved a hole through the door. Once it fell away they felt a gust of fresh air and she smiled up at him. "Another reason being a Jedi can be handy."

"I'll add it to the list," he replied, trying to smile back as he picked her up. They stepped out into the moonlight and she inhaled sharply at the sight that greeted them: they appeared to have ended up in a grove of hundreds of identical trees, each covered in thousands of tiny, white flowers. The trees were not especially large, with the tallest being about five or six meters in height and covered with a smooth, light-brown bark, cast in a silvery glow by the moon of Japarran, almost fully exposed in this section of forest. For a brief moment, Stonewall forgot about her impending fate as Kalinda took in the view, her head tilted almost completely back against his chest as she gazed at the moon.

At last she turned to him, her smile wide. "This is incredible," she said. "I didn't realize that the moon was so...and the trees..." She gestured helplessly as he set her down by the nearest tree. "Isn't it beautiful?"

He almost didn't respond, automatically keeping his thoughts to himself, but then a small part of his mind seemed to shrug. _What does it matter? You will never get this chance again but if you let it pass, you'll regret it for the rest of your life. _The seal of his helmet popped open with a hiss, the bucket dropping to the ground at his feet. "It is," he replied. "But not as beautiful as you." The words sounded strange coming from his mouth and for a moment he wondered how badly he had screwed up as she stared at him.

At last she blinked. "Stone..."

He shook his head and looked down. "I'm sorry...I just..." He moved away from her and stood beneath the branches of the nearest tree, examining the flowers. They were so small, barely wider than his thumb with about three layers of curved, rounded petals; he leaned forward and inhaled their scent. As he did so, he felt her move beside him. "Kalinda." She had risen to follow him, though he could see the effort it cost her to do so.

She said his name, put her hand on his arm. "Don't say that," she said. "Don't be sorry for how you feel, Stone." She sighed and ran her other hand through her hair. "It may not make things any easier, but you can't help how you feel." He said nothing and she squeezed his arm. "Come on," she said, indicating the middle of the grove. "Let's go sit for a while." He moved to pick her up again but she shook her head. "I want to walk."

Wordlessly, he collected his helmet and followed her towards a thick cluster of the trees; a faint breeze blew and the air was filled with the sweet, soft scent of the jessamin. Once they reached a particular tree, she folded her legs, sat on the soft grass and slipped out of her boots, looking up at him and gesturing that he should do the same. After a moment he did, shedding the outer shell of his armor and stacking it neatly beside him. They sat together for a few minutes before she spoke again. "Jonas' death nearly killed me," she said. "After he died, I...broke, for lack of a better word." Her shoulders lifted and sank. "And I'm still not sure I'm right." She gave a quiet laugh. "Matter of fact, I'm positive of it."

"That's not true," he said. He had taken a seat in front of her, cross-legged as she was, his helmet at his side with the rest of his kit.

"How do you know?" She winced at something but shook her head at his look of concern. "Just talk, Stone. Please."

He paused. "I just do." After a moment he swallowed and looked at her. "Can I ask you something?"

"Only if I can do the same to you."

He smiled. "Fair enough. What happened after we left Basrah?"

Her face fell and she ducked her head, her hair falling across her face like a dark curtain. "I was stupid," she said at last. "I was stupid and foolish." Stonewall watched her shoulders fall and felt an odd emotion thrill through him, a mixture of anger and sorrow in anticipation of what he thought might be coming.

"You don't have to..."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "It doesn't matter anymore." She sighed and studied the ground, her voice wavering as she spoke. "You know Obi-Wan."

"General Kenobi?"

She nodded. "We've known each other our whole lives and I've loved him almost that long. And he loved me too, for a while." He cast her a perplexed look and she sighed again. "After Jonas died we started a romantic relationship that continued off and on until about a month ago."

He frowned. "Off an on?"

"It's complicated," she said, though she frowned. "Actually, it's not." She met his eyes and he was taken aback at the sorrow he could read in her expression. "I loved him and he said that he loved me. And then he decided that we couldn't be...together right now, so he told me that we needed to end whatever it is we had." She rubbed at her forehead. "Maybe it is complicated. I don't really know anymore. All I know is that I'm tired of it all. I'm so tired of it." Her tone grew thoughtful. "I feel like I've wasted so much time chasing a dream that will never come true."

Stonewall shook his head, trying to follow. "And this happened...recently?"

She tilted her head in thought. "Recently and not so recently. It's happened more than once." She gave him a sad smile as he looked at her with incredulity. "Like I said...I'm a fool. I always think 'this time it's real, this time it will last.'" A slow inhale followed by a long exhale as she studied her right hand. "That's why I was so upset, Stone. Now you know."

At the expression on her face he felt anger course through him. _How could he do that to her? _"He's a _di'kut, _Kalinda. A huge one."

Unexpectedly, she chuckled: a strange, bright sound in the darkness. "Stone..." She shook her head. "He's not an idiot. He's just Obi-Wan. I'm not angry with him for doing what he thinks is right." She paused. "Is there any way we could talk about something else?"

As he opened his mouth to speak, he heard her gasp; a glance at her showed that her arms were tight around her midsection and a pained expression was on her face as she inhaled and exhaled deeply. The next moment her face had smoothed over and her arms relaxed a little bit. _The Force, _he thought. _She's using the Force._ After a few moments she spoke, her voice wavering but calm. "It's fine. It's not that bad...what happened to you during Geonosis?" Though he knew it was a lie, he understood the necessity of such things, small bits of comfort to be taken where they could.

"I should start before that," he replied. "You see, we clones are raised and trained in small groups: squads of four or five brothers. We learn together, grow together, do pretty much everything together."

She nodded. "It's similar with the Jedi."

"My group was only four, at first,"he said. "Until I was about five standard years old...then we got a new addition, a lad who called himself Drake." He smiled at the memory. "At first I thought he was a real _shabuir _ – no one really had nicknames at that point – and Drake was kind of...odd too boot."

She was wincing again but seemed determined to talk to him. "Odd?"

"He was...funny," Stonewall continued. "Strange. He had a bizarre sense of humor; he tried to turn things like flash drills into a kind of game. He was always telling me that I was too serious, trying to give me a nickname...he gave all the other guys nicknames, but I always rejected the ones he thought of for me. Come to think of it, I'm not sure why he was never reconditioned, as the Kaminoans didn't much care for jokes." He glanced at her; he could tell that she wanted to ask him more, but she only nodded for him to continue.

"Anyway, one day during live rounds, the others in our squad were killed," he want on. "And it was just me and Drake left, so-"

At this she held up her hand. "Wait...the others were _killed? _During live rounds? You're going to have to explain that one to me, Stone."

He nodded. "Live rounds just means that the blaster fire was real rather than simulated. Very often clones would die during them. Anyway, Drake and I were tacked onto another squad, but we had become pretty close at that point."

"Brothers in arms."

"Well, we're all brothers," he replied with a nod. "But Drake and I were...friends, too. It's hard to explain. When we were sent to Geonosis, he was killed while he was trying to save me from a bunch of rollers..." He frowned at the memory. "I was supposed to be covering him while he went after one of the tanks, but I got overwhelmed and he tried to save me. He died in my arms." It was not a memory that he cared to dwell on and for a moment he could see Drake's face in his mind's eye, bloodied and bruised, but smiling at him still. Suddenly he felt her hand on his knee; her eyes were on his but there was no pity in her expression, only sorrow.

"Stonewall," she said. "It wasn't your fault." As if on impulse, she moved next to him. "It wasn't," she added after a moment.

He shook his head; the cool temperature of her skin almost made him ignore the fact that she was trembling, beads of sweat appearing on her forehead. "You don't have to say that, Kali."

She pulled back a little and met his eyes. "But I know how you feel," she said. "I felt the same way after Jonas died...he was just trying to protect me." She frowned to herself. "From then on I decided that I would never let anyone else throw their life away on my account." She leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. "But it's not your fault."

Any other time, any other place and he would have kissed her, but then she groaned and clutched at her torso again and he swallowed hard. "It's getting worse?" he asked. "Kali?"

She nodded. "My arms are numb," she said, her voice distant. "I don't have much strength left..." Her eyes remained closed and he could see the effort that she was making to speak. "Stone. I've wasted so much time. I regret it now, I really do."

"There has to be something I can do to help you," he said. "Please...let me help you." The memory of the blank void of open space came to him in an instant. "Kali," he said, taking her hands in his own. "Remember when we left Ventress' ship? You asked me to help you with your shield? It worked, didn't it?"

She nodded. Sweat was rolling down her face in earnest now and her skin had taken on a ghostly pall.

He took a deep breath. "If I help you again...can you use the Force to, I don't know, get rid of the toxin? Is that possible?"

Kalinda remained silent for several minutes, still pressed against him; her hands were ice and her pulse was slowing. Finally she spoke in a whisper. "It's a long shot," she replied. "A really long shot. But..." Her dark eyes opened and focused back on him. "It might be all there is."

"Whatever I can do," he said. "Just tell me, and I'll do it. I'll do anything for you."

* * *

His words struck Kali like a blaster bolt, but she took comfort in the knowledge for once, rather than pushing the feeling aside; she gritted her teeth against the numbness that had seeped through her arms and was reaching for her heart even as her stomach was wracked with pain. Taking another deep breath, she looked at him. "Take my hands and focus. Breathe. Imagine the poison in my blood and then imagine it...dissipating. Disappearing."

Though he looked uncertain, Stonewall nodded as his hands gripped hers, covering them almost completely; she placed her fingertips on the flats of his wrists and took comfort in his steady pulse. "Anything," he repeated as he held her gaze. "Just tell me what to do."

"Just breathe," she said, inhaling deeply. "And try to relax." She closed her eyes and opened herself to the Force. It was difficult to focus through the strange sensation of numbness and pain, but she pressed on, determined. After several minutes she was able to feel the blood beating in her veins – and Stone's too – and she became aware of the jessamin in her bloodstream; another deep breath and she reached out with the Force, trying to focus on the toxin, to dissolve it on a molecular level. She could almost see it in her mind's eye as a slick of oil on the surface of a clear stream, an oleaginous, glistening ripple that clung to her blood cells and choked the very life from her veins.

Kalinda inhaled; she gathered what was left of her own strength, gathered Stone's strength that he offered so willingly and focused on the poison in her body. She exhaled; urging the poison to scatter, to dissipate, as if a massive wave were to come along and wash it away.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

Again and again and again.

But the toxin was stubborn, refusing to fade and she felt despair creeping in as the numbness continued to encroach upon her heart, until Stonewall gave her hands a gentle squeeze as if he sensed her emotions. She took another few breaths and tried again; this time she was able to wrap her awareness around several of the toxin's molecules, feeling a few of them scatter after several long moments. Stonewall squeezed her hands again and she nodded once, turning her attention to the next group of molecules until she felt another insistent stab of pain at her stomach, causing her concentration to lapse as she doubled over with a small cry.

It was then that Stone's grip tightened one last time and she felt herself being guided into a horizontal position, which caused the pain to ease just a little, allowing her to focus once more.

After a while she was aware of only two things: the persistent molecules that seemed to wriggle from her attention, though she found that she was able to focus on them with his help; and Stonewall's hands, warm and solid as they pressed against hers, offering her everything he had to give.


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

The transmission ended and the clones were silent for several moments before Crest spoke. "Anyone hungry?" Without waiting for a reply, he began to gather the ingredients for a meal, though his actions were stilted and automatic. Traxis slipped into the woods while Weave went to stand by his workstation.

_I'll have to disassemble this now, _he thought with a sigh as he began to gather his tools. _Feels like I just set it all up, too._

After several minutes Milo approached him. "So that's it? We're just going to leave and rendezvous with the fleet?"

"Those were General Windu's orders," Weave replied, not meeting his brother's eyes. It was approaching dawn by now, the birds were starting to sing again as light was starting to trickle through the canopy.

Milo was silent for a moment before he shook his head. "I'm going back. I'm going to look for them." He replaced his bucket and gathered his Deece. "I can't just leave."

"Milo-"

"No, Weave," Milo squared his shoulders. "I'm going back." He looked at Weave. "Please don't order me not to. I have to look for them."

Weave sighed and rubbed his forehead, leaning against the workstation for several minutes before he took a deep breath and glanced up at the younger clone. "Alright," he said at last. "We'll go and take one more look, if it will satisfy you. Crest, you and Trax stay here and keep an eye on our guest," Weave said, nodding to the unconscious form of Doctor Raphan. "We'll be right back."

* * *

The first thing that Stonewall was aware of was a strange tickling sensation against his nose; he nearly sneezed but managed to avoid the act by opening his eyes and looking at the first thing that he saw, which was Kalinda lying beside him, her form blanketed in hundreds of tiny white flowers: they stippled her dark hair, draped across her clothing and rested on her closed eyelashes. As his awareness increased, he realized that the flowers – the same ones that had been growing on the trees during the night – not only covered her somnolent form but his as well, not to mention the area around them; in fact, the entire grove was blanketed with white, made even brighter by the sunlight that was filtering in from the bare branches above their heads.

_Did we stop the poison? _he thought, setting a hand against her cheek. Her breathing was even and calm, her skin felt the proper temperature and she seemed healthy enough. _I suppose we must have, as it's morning now. _He sat up, looking around at the grove; all of the trees were empty of flowers, the air was fresh and slightly cool and in the distance he could hear birds singing. When he glanced back down, her eyes were open and she was looking at him.

"Hello there," she said, her voice quiet. "Sleep well?"

Relief washed through him, making him laugh. "Not bad," he said. "You?"

In response, she took a deep breath and sat up, her eyes flicking from side to side as the minuscule flowers fell from her hair and tunic. "The jessamin," she breathed, looking around in awe. "It must be...it blooms at night, remember?" She selected a lock of her hair, shaking it out and chuckling at the flowers that fell. "That was an eventful night, wasn't it?" As if on impulse she smiled at him and reached for what was left of his hair, brushing away a small mass of flowers that fell across his back and shoulders. "Stone, you're covered as well."

Without thinking he reached forward to cup her cheek, closing the space between them in a breath, in a heartbeat, and kissed her; though he had never done it before he was pleased to discover that it came naturally enough. For one moment she hesitated and he was afraid that he had made a mistake, but by the time the thought crossed his mind she was leaning into him one of her hands rested on his face, the other at his waist. Heat coursed through him at the sensation, coupled with the sheer happiness that she was_ alive _after he was quite sure that she would be otherwise; so he held her closer, the warm taste of her breath mingling with the heady scent of the jessamin flowers that surrounded them.

After some time they parted and looked at one another; her face was flushed and her could feel her pulse racing beneath his hand that still rested against the smooth skin of her neck. She cleared her throat and took a deep breath as if to speak, then seemed to change her mind as she leaned forward to kiss him again, her body pressing close to his, her arms wrapping around his neck; he found that he was eager to return the action in kind. Finally she drew back, her breath was short as she moved herself away from him, clearing her throat once more before she took another deep breath and met his eyes.

When she spoke at last, her voice was a whisper. "Stonewall..."

_What have I done? _he thought. _What is wrong with me? _"I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head. "That was inappropriate and completely out of line...I understand if you really do want me court-marshaled, or reconditioned, or..."

She said his name again and ran a hand through her hair, heedless of the flowers that fell to the ground. Her eyes rested briefly to her right hand and he noticed that she was toying with her ring finger, though it was bare. "I don't want you to be punished for how you feel," she said at last, her voice quiet. "No one should be. I just-" she paused. "You don't know me, Stone. I'm not...one hundred percent right now." She gave a faint smile. "Maybe only thirty or forty percent, at best."

"I don't know if anyone is ever really one hundred percent," he said after a moment. Neither one of them spoke for several minutes while he absorbed the things she'd said, until something gave inside of him; it was then that Stonewall reached a decision. _May as well go for broke. _He took a deep breath.

"Kalinda," he said. "For what it's worth, I want you to be whole and if I can help you at all, then I want to." On some wild impulse he put a hand under her chin and lifted her face to his. "Whatever you can give me, I'll happily take. But I want you to know that I'll give you everything I have if you'll let me."

Silence. His hand dropped as her gaze flicked to her right ring finger, then back to his face, though still she made no response. Wincing internally, he nodded to himself. _So that's that. Who's the _di'kut, _now? _

After what felt like hours she met his eyes. "Stonewall." She gave a small laugh. "How did you get that name, anyway? It's very...fitting."

"Drake's last words," he replied. "'You're like a wall, _vod, _made of stone. Nothing can touch you.'"

"'Nothing can touch you,'" she repeated. "But that's not true, is it?"

He thought of their joined hands the night before; even as the poison was ebbing her life away he was aware of her persistent presence in the back of his mind. "No, it's not."

"I have nothing to offer you," she said at last. "I'm a Jedi; there are some things I will never be able to do, some futures I will never have, should I even survive long enough to have them." She took a deep, shuddering breath and closed her eyes, shaking her head. "But aside from all that, I'm broken, Stone. You shouldn't want me." Her voice was quiet, almost drowned out by the wind in the trees.

At this he chuckled. "I've never had a future, Kalinda. Until you came along, the best thing that I had to look forward to was taking down as many clankers as I could before I died. The only thing I do have is _right now, _but it's yours if you'll have it."

She was silent again.

"I want you to know that you've changed everything, Kalinda." He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "For the better." She made no reply for several more minutes and he tried not to grow impatient, until he couldn't stand it anymore. "Has anyone told you how frustrating it is when you do that? I feel like I'm digging my own grave every time I open my mouth."

"Yes," she said, her mouth quirking into a smile. "Sometimes I think far too much; other times, not enough," she squinted up at the sunlight. "But maybe you're right. I think it's time to let go." Her voice was a murmur, as if she was talking to herself, but when her gaze fell back on him he could see that something in her eyes had changed. "I have many, many annoying habits, Stone," she replied. "But I suppose you'll have to get used to them." Her hand reached forward to brush away more of the jessamin flowers that had fallen to his shoulders. "Okay," she said at last. "I'm in. But we have to work some things out...just take it one day at a time."

"We will," he said with a nod. "Whatever you want, I'll do. Just..." he checked himself.

She gave him a mock frown. "_Now_ who's frustrating?"

"Just...please let me kiss you again."

Her answering chuckle was music to his ears as she leaned into him. "Of course, my valiant soldier."

* * *

"Are you sure this is the right way?"

"Milo..."

The younger clone sighed as he glanced around the remains of Raphan's lab; they had been looking around for almost an hour and were no closer to finding any signs of life than they'd been when they started. Weave was anxious to get back, anxious to be gone from this place, but Milo was acting uncharacteristically stubborn, refusing to quit his search. "Just one last look." Weave sighed and nodded as Milo continued to move through the crumbled, smoking hulks of metal that had once been the bunker.

Aside from the charred and damaged facility, it was a rather pretty place. Weave had never really noticed these things, but as they walked he began to take in the jungle's wild beauty; life was everywhere here, from the minuscule insects that moved beneath his feet to the wild cries of unseen mammals in the canopy above. Birdsong filled the air. He blinked into his HUD to try – again – to call the Captain, though he felt like a fool for making the attempt.

Static. _Of course._

With another sigh, Weave glanced around for his brother and felt a thrill of alarm when he didn't see the younger clone. "Milo? Where'd you go?"

"Here...whoa..."

"Where's 'here'?"

"North of the bunker...you gotta see this."

Weave moved to follow his brother, who had climbed to the top of the ruins of the laboratory and was looking down into a valley of some kind. "Wow..." Weave let out a whistle as he took in the scene that greeted him: it was a grove of trees, bare-branched and empty, though the ground was covered with a blanket of white flowers. "It's the jessamin," he said after a moment, looking at Milo. "It must have bloomed during the night." _I should get some samples. _

But Milo wasn't paying any attention; he flung his hand up to his visor and gave a cry of excitement before leaping down onto the hill below him and setting off at a dead run through the grove, ignoring Weave's yells.

_Shinies, _Weave thought with a mental sigh as he trotted after his brother. "Milo! What are you..." He trailed off as his eyes fell on what had startled the younger clone.

It was the captain and the Jedi, walking side by side towards them. They were each coated with a layer of the tiny flowers and very much alive and unharmed, as far as the medic could tell. Upon seeing Milo and Weave, Stonewall raised his hand and tapped the side of his helmet to indicate that his comm wasn't working before he removed the bucket. For her part, the General just waved at them. Weave broke into a run.

Milo didn't stop running until he was before them. "Captain? General? You...you're alive?"

"Affirmative." Stonewall sounded amused as he looked at the younger clone, then at Weave. "Coming to the rescue?"

When Weave approached them he felt breathless with excitement and was unable to string a sentence together. "How did you...? The toxin...Raphan said that...we sent a message to the Jedi Temple, but..."

The clone captain and the general glanced at one another before she spoke. "We're both fine. Long story." She looked at Weave. "You already contacted the Temple?"

He flushed and nodded. "Yes. Standard protocol."

"Well, then it seems we have some work to do," she replied. "The doctor?"

"Is in custody, sir," Milo answered, saluting her. "We were getting ready to leave."

"Glad you didn't," the captain replied. "But you did as you were supposed to. Good work, both of you." He looked at Weave. "Your comm working? I'd like to check in with the others."

Nodding, Weave called to Traxis, who gruff voice sounded pleased. "We're at camp; just about to get on our way. I suppose you'll be wanting a lift off of this planet?"

* * *

Kalinda couldn't help but grin at the very palpable relief and happiness that emanated from the reunited brothers as they clasped arms with Stone and exchanged quiet words amongst each other once they'd reached the camp. Crest even swooped her up into an energetic hug, lifting her off of her feet for a moment before he set her down, his smile wide. "Welcome back to the land of the living, General," he said. "Glad to know we can't be rid of you so easily."

"Thanks, Crest," she replied. "Me too." The others' greetings were more subdued, but she could sense their relief at her and Stone's reappearance, though none of them seemed to pick on the change in the captain and the Jedi's relationship. _This is going to make life a lot more complicated, _she thought as she watched him. _But I think it's worth it._

Weave approached her last, hesitation in his thoughts. "General," he said with a nod. "What are your orders?"

"First and foremost," she replied. "We need to contact Coruscant and let them know what happened." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a handful of the small, white flowers. "These should be brought back to the Temple and studied, along with the doctor." She glanced at Stonewall. "Hopefully they'll give us another task when we get back...our first mission was something of a success, I think. What do you think, Stone?"

"Aside from you almost dying from the jessamin toxin and the doctor almost blowing us to oblivion," he replied with a smile at her. "It was a rollicking victory."

* * *

_Meanwhile, across the galaxy**..**.._

Considering he'd only just left Coruscant, it had been a _very_ longday.

The battle had been won, yes, but at a tremendous cost to Republic forces; Obi-Wan's vision was obscured by the bodies of the clones who had given their brief lives in the service of people whose names and faces they would never know and who very likely looked on them as mere cannon fodder. It was a depressing thought, to be sure, but he couldn't help but wonder what kind of men they would have been had they been born as "real" citizens, not grown in jars and given numbers instead of names.

In any case, it was better to think of the soldiers than to think of some other things.

Obi-Wan watched as Commander Cody approached him from across the battlefield, the clone's armor scuffed and filthy as his own, and did not wonder at the grim emotion that emanated from the commander. The Jedi general had been helping the medics, offering what services he could and ignoring the persistent nagging sensation that something was wrong. _We're in a war, _he thought as he straightened and nodded to Cody. _Something's always wrong. _

"General Kenobi," Cody's voice was different than normal and Obi-Wan could sense his agitation. "We've received a transmission from Coruscant."

_What is it now? _Obi-Wan sighed and ran a hand through his hair, which was matted with dust and grime. "And?"

Cody paused. "Will you come with me, please?" The fact that he didn't tack on the rudimentary "sir" at the end of the question was the first warning sign. The Commander indicated a relatively quiet place beyond the now-silent blaster cannons, which only hours ago had been sending bolts of energy that ripped through the Separatist forces. Obi-Wan considered protesting – after all, he had much work to do here – but something in Cody's bearing made him nod and accompany the other man. They walked to a place beside the closest cannon and the clone removed his helmet and held up a holotransmitter. "General Skywalker was at the Temple when they received word and, well...he thought you would want to know." Without another word, Cody activated the message.

It was a clone trooper who identified himself with a name that Obi-Wan only vaguely recognized. "_This is Sergeant Weave, formerly under the command of Captain Stonewall and General Halcyon, calling from the planet Japarran. I regret to inform you that the General and Captain have been killed in the line of duty.._.."

Obi-Wan didn't hear the rest, his brain had stopped processing information after the word _killed. _He stood frozen in place for several moments, staring at the device in Cody's hand long after the message had ended. He felt strange, cold and distant, like he was adrift in space. _I should feel different, _he thought. _Why don't I feel different? _It was difficult to breathe.

Cody was saying something. "...General? Are you okay?"

Obi-Wan blinked and looked up. "Where is my ship?" He was seated on the dust and didn't recall how he came to be that way. There was a searing tear in his chest and he thought for a moment that he'd been shot, but he couldn't see any blood.

"Sir?" Cody was crouched beside him, his helmet at his side.

"My ship," Obi-Wan repeated. His hands felt numb and he wondered briefly if he had been injured worse than he'd realized. _Certainly that would account for the pain_. "I must get to my ship."

Cody hesitated, then shook his head. "I'm afraid all of the fighters are still aboard the _Intrepid,_" he said. Obi-Wan stared at him and the clone nodded, rising and replacing his helmet. "I'll call a shuttle, sir. Just sit tight."

Obi-Wan nodded and raised his hand to the sky as he heard Cody calling the bridge of the starship; though his eyes were on the stars that were beginning to appear, a vision of a woman with dark hair swam in his waking mind. _It cannot be, _he thought. _I would know. I would know if she were dead. _

But he was tired and worn and had been surrounded by nothing but death and pain for so long, he was not sure what he knew anymore. Doubt filled his mind, despair clouded his vision and as he watched the sky for the shuttle that Cody had promised, the only thing that he could hear was her voice in his head; the words she'd spoken to him back on Basrah were as clear as if he'd just heard them.

"_So if you really do love me, if you really do care about me at all, you'll either let me go or give this all that you have. Because if you're in, then I'm in. But if you're out, then I'm out too. Forever."_


	10. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Mace Windu looked about as shocked as Kali had ever seen him. "Kalinda. It's good to see that you're alive."

"It's good to _be_ alive, Master. I'm sorry for all the confusion...it's a long story." Her hands folded in front of her. "I wanted to let you know that we have Doctor Raphan in our custody as well as a small sample of the jessamin toxin. Shall we bring him back to Coruscant?"

"Yes," he said with a nod, and she caught a flicker of relief even through the hologram. "Yes, that would be good." He regarded her. "What happened?"

"While we were infiltrating the lab Raphan hit me with some of the jessamin toxin." She sighed and ran a hand through her hair; several small, white flowers fell to her feet as she did so. "It should have killed me, I guess, but I was able to use the Force to heal myself. However, the good doctor also detonated his lab; since Stonewall and I were separated from the group, the others thought that we had perished...hence the earlier transmission. Again, I'm sorry for the confusion."

Her old Master nodded again. He'd resumed his familiar stance: leaning back in his chair with his fingers steepled before him. It was several long moments before he spoke; though she was anxious to get back to her squad, who even now were disassembling their camp, she could tell that her old Master had something else on his mind, though he was silent. _Is that where I learned it? _she wondered, recalling Stone's frustration earlier. _That _is _annoying. _She cleared her throat. "Master?"

He blinked and dropped his hands. "I'm glad to see you, Kalinda," he said at last, in a voice that she rarely heard. "There was much...sorrow when we received the news."

"There is no death, there is the Force," she said by route, though his words touched her. "But I have to say, I'm pretty pleased with the outcome of the whole thing." She hesitated. "Will we be given another mission? I realize that this may not be considered a success, but I think that we're more than capable of-"

"We will discuss that when you return," he replied, his tone businesslike and formal once more. "Though," he paused again and the edge of his mouth tugged into a faint smile. "Well, we'll see. May the Force be with you."

She returned the parting words and the transmission ended. From her position at the long-range transmitter, she could see Weave was shooing Milo away from his instruments, indicating that he should help Crest with the tents, mess station, and other accouterments of life in camp. Traxis was collecting his weaponry, dissembling his blaster cannon with meticulous care.

Stone was not in sight, though she recalled hearing him say something about collecting his perimeter alarms. Casting her awareness out, she could feel him about fifty meters from the camp, his attention focused on the small, motion-sensitive devices that indicated any hostile presence in the immediate area. She wondered if there were still droids roaming the jungle, though she doubted it. _Though I wouldn't mind getting a little more target practice, _she thought as she exited the ship_. _The LL-30 was still tucked in her belt, though it was not as comfortable as her saber – yet. _Soon, _she thought. _Soon it'll feel like second nature. _

Weave looked up at her approach. "General. How are things in the Core?" He had told her that he'd been loathe to send the notice of her and Stone's deaths, but had done so immediately upon receiving the orders – naturally – and she could still sense a lingering guilt over the whole thing, even as he was bent over the field analyzer, taking something apart with a slender tool.

"Relieved," she replied, giving him a smile. "And anxious to meet our guest." She paused. "No one blames you, Weave." At his look she shook her head. "For the transmission. You were following orders. You did your duty, though I know it wasn't easy. Thank you."

He nodded and looked down at his table, the tool in his hand was still. "It was orders, General. I had no choice but to follow." However, when he looked up at her she could see the relief in his eyes. "But thank you. You're very kind." His face flushed and he looked back at the analyzer. "This thing's been acting up...hopefully I can get it working properly again before..." He paused and regarded her. "Are we getting another assignment, General?"

"I hope so," she replied, giving him a smile before she turned and headed for the others. Crest and Milo were bickering as they pulled tent stakes from the ground.

"You know," Crest was saying as he wrestled with the edges of the canvas tent, his back to Kalinda. "All of the most technologically-advanced weaponry in the galaxy and the Republic sends us off with these little scraps of cloth that may as well be made of flimsiplast for as durable as they are."

Milo collected the stakes and placed them in their carrying case. "Would you rather sleep on the cold ground?"

"I'd rather sleep in a bed, preferably with a woman or two to keep me warm," Crest said with a wistful sigh.

"General," Milo said as the Jedi approached him, his back ramrod straight as he stood into a salute.

"Er..." Crest turned and winced as Kalinda regarded him, though she was biting back her laughter. "Sir, about my comment..."

She shook her head. "Just wanted to tell you that we will, in fact, be returning to the Core." Crest's salute was perhaps a bit more enthusiastic than normal, but she pretended not to notice, turning her attention to Milo, who had a question in his eyes. "Yes?"

The young clone looked pensive as he spoke. "Are we getting another assignment, sir?"

_I've finally got Stone calling me by my name, _she thought as she looked at him. _Now I just have to work on the others, though I imagine I'll have to use a different method. _"Maybe," she replied. "Though, I have a feeling we'll be pretty busy soon enough. Why, are you bored?" Her smile was guileless and he looked a bit nervous.

"No, of course not," he replied quickly. "Just...well, maybe a little restless." He gave her a small smile and she raised her eyebrows.

"Great. When you guys finish here, I need the ship uncovered and un-camoflagued. Be sure to scrub all of that paint off, too. There's a stream not far from here where you can get some water. Thanks for volunteering, Milo." She turned to walk away, just as Crest chuckled and elbowed his brother in the side.

"Tough break, newbie."

"Oh, Crest?" she said, glancing back at him. "Thanks for helping him out. I know it's nothing compared to a...bedfellow, but the scrubbing should keep you warm enough for a while." The bald clone's laughter abruptly ceased, though Milo was clearly fighting back a grin.

She flashed them another smile and made her way towards Traxis, who was surrounded by a few tarps on which he'd carefully laid out all of his weapons; presently he was taking inventory and assessing each piece for damage and general wear-and-tear, noting on a datapad which items needed maintenance or charging. At her footsteps he looked up and gave her a curt nod, his eyes flicking to the blaster tucked in her belt. "I didn't give you a holster," he said with a frown.

"This works," she replied. "A holster might be a bit too bulky."

The scarred clone shook his head and made a gesture that indicated she should stand by. Curious, she watched him kneel to a crate beside him, the sounds of shifting metal, leather and cloth coming from it as he rummaged. Finally he pulled out a small, v-shaped bit of leather and handed it to her. "It should clip to your belt," he said as she examined the object. "You don't want that thing pointing anywhere...well," he paused and seemed to reconsider his words. "Just try the holster. Sir."

Kali fastened the holster to her belt and slid the pistol inside of it; she gave an experimental grab and found that it was much more comfortable than keeping the weapon shoved between her belt and tunic. Trax's mouth quirked as she drew the LL-30 a few times, sliding it back in the holster as quickly as she could. After a few moments she grinned at him. "Thanks, Trax. You're right...it is better." He nodded and bent back to his weapons, selecting a large rifle and examining it closely while she watched. Suddenly her eyes caught a glimpse of one of the blades at his side. "May I borrow that for a second?" she asked, gesturing to the steel weapon.

Giving her a look of mild curiosity, he pulled it from his belt and handed the hilt to her. She took the knife and headed back to her tent where she pulled out a small mirror that she kept on hand for emergencies. It was not easy, even though Traxis' blade was sharp, but she was careful and patient; soon there was a thick swath of hair in her lap and her head felt much, much lighter. _It feels nice and cool, _she thought as she twisted her head from side to side to check that the cut was more or less even. _Well, it's not pretty, but it'll work for now. _

When she stepped out of her tent, only Traxis was in the camp, the others having made a run to the ship. As she handed him the knife his eyes widened but he said nothing, only nodded once. It was then that she felt Stone's presence emerge from the jungle beyond them; he stood just far enough back so that he was hidden by the shadow of the trees, but she knew he was there just the same. After she thanked the scarred clone again, Kali slipped into the woods to find Stonewall, his helmet dappled with the light that filtered in through the canopy as he watched her approach.

It was his turn to comment on her hair. "Time for a change?"

"Absolutely. Do you like it?" She smiled and shook her head, letting it sway against her cheeks.

In response, he reached for her and ran his fingers through the shortened strands that now fell just past her shoulders. "You'd be beautiful no matter what, Kali; even if you were bald. But I think it suits you." After another moment his hand fell and he cleared his throat. "How are things in the Core?"

She shrugged. "Master Windu's relieved; we're going to head back as soon as we can and drop off Raphan." A quiet breeze lifted the edges of her hair as she looked into his visor.

"Will we be getting another mission?" he asked. She felt a flicker of something from him, a question in his thoughts that had only a very small part to do with his words.

"Perhaps." Kalinda cast a glance behind her, towards the camp; they were more or less obscured from view, so she raised her hands to the edges of his helmet and began toying with the release. "How do you get this thing off?" she said after several fumbling moments.

In response, he flicked some unseen part of the helmet, unsealing it with a hiss. "Easy as _uj _cake," he replied, his tone light as he regarded her. It was not difficult for her to know what he wanted to do but they were not completely alone at present; she knew that he would let her take the lead so she took a breath and leaned up, kissing his mouth gently and smiling as his helmet clattered to the ground. One of his hands circled her waist while the other cupped her cheek, in that moment the beat of her heart increased exponentially and she felt heat leap through her veins as the intensity of the kiss grew from an ember to a blaze.

At last they parted and she found that she had to take several deep breaths to steady herself; his eyes were still that remarkable shade of honey-brown as he regarded her, the movement of his chest indicating that he, too, was fighting for control. When she found her voice she gave him a smile. "I got a 'we'll see' from Mace, which is about as close to a 'fantastic job' as anything else, so I think we will."

"That's good to hear," he replied, his voice hushed. "I think we make a good team." He paused and cleared his throat, bending to pick up his helmet. "And you're feeling better?" His voice changed as he replaced the helmet, the mic taking over.

Kali nodded. "I am, Stone." They looked at each other for a moment before she spoke again. "Whenever Crest and Milo are done with the ship, get them to prep it. I want to leave here as soon as we can."

"The ship?" His head tilted as he regarded her.

"You'll see when you get back," she grinned. "I think you'll get a kick out of it." Turning to the jungle she flexed her left knee; it had been a little sore lately as she had been neglecting her usual exercises, which she resolved to rectify when she had a chance. "I'm going to meditate for a little while," she added. "I should be back soon."

"See you then," he replied, before he slipped towards the camp. "Kalinda." She shivered slightly at sound of her name in his voice.

Before she began to run, she took a deep, steadying breath, inhaling the scent of green, growing things, distant rain and some unidentified flora. In the next moment she was racing through the forest, drawing on the Force to enhance her speed and agility as she moved past trees and brush; when she stopped her breath was only a little quicker, though her heart was racing. The Force had led her to a small clearing, a bright blue patch of sky above her head indicated that it was still mid-afternoon and she could hear cicadas buzzing all around her.

Taking a deep breath she folded her legs and sat on a nearby log as she tried to quiet her mind, tried to use the Force to reach across the stars and planets to contact Obi-Wan.

* * *

Whether he was aboard a vast starship or a one-man fighter, Obi-Wan was uncomfortable with space travel. It seemed unnatural, for all that it was an integral part of his life. He had always hated flying; he despised the cold, empty void of space and the unblinking stars and the monotony of sitting alone in a miniscule cockpit for hours with no company but the occasional beep of an astro-droid.

But at this moment he was untroubled by the blackness that surrounded him, as it was nothing compared to what lay within his mind, his spirit, his heart. He had tried to reach her again and again, but it was like looking at a blank wall, so he prayed to whatever gods still listened that he was wrong. "R4," he said, glancing at the little droid behind him. "How much longer until we reach the Japarran system?"

The indicator panel on the screen before him flashed and he sighed. _Thirteen hours. _With a sigh, he nodded and leaned back in his seat – as much as he could, anyway, given the tiny space – rubbing his face with hands that were still covered in dirt and grime. _Kali, _he thought, _I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. _Remorse flooded his mind, but he took a deep breath and pushed it aside; in his shock and grief he had fled his position, but he had since regained a measure of composure.

To some degree, anyway.

The lights at his messaging station flickered. _The Temple? _He grimaced. _I have an inkling as to why they'd be calling me. _He took a deep breath and accepted the voice-only transmission. "Kenobi here."

"What are you doing?" Mace Windu's voice was weary.

He had no ready answer, so he remained silent.

Unexpectedly, Mace sighed, and Obi-Wan could almost see him pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Your flight plan indicates that you are headed for Japarran."

Obi-Wan resisted the urge to shoot the droid a glare. It was protocol to inform the Temple of any flight plan, and he hadn't thought to order the astromech to do otherwise. "That is correct."

"She's not dead," Mace said abruptly. "I spoke to her myself a few minutes ago. There was an _incident_, but she is unharmed." He could hear the senior Jedi's frown. "You need to return to your post, Obi-Wan; your mission is not yet finished."

"What kind of incident?"

"It doesn't matter," the other Jedi replied. "However," there was a very long pause that made Obi-Wan's hands clench. "I'll send her report, if you want. Now, please turn around and rejoin your squad."

Sighing, Obi-Wan nodded, though he knew that the other Jedi couldn't see him. "Thank you," he said after a moment.

Mace made no further response as he signed off, so Obi-Wan directed R4 to turn the ship around, to angle back for the fleetand tried to ignore the pull of his heart that urged him in the opposite direction. After transferring control of the helm to the astromech droid, he closed his eyes and tried to relax his mind, tried to sense the bright pulse of life that he knew almost as well as his own.

And then it was as if she was sitting right next to him, he _felt _her presence in the Force, heard his name in her familiar voice. _Obi-Wan? _For a moment Obi-Wan wondered if he was hallucinating, if the Force was playing a trick on his mind. Many, many years ago, they had learned the secret of communication through the Force, though he was certain that his actions after Basrah had severed the already tenuous connection.

_Kali. _Relief washed through him, his body sagged in the seat. _You're not dead. _He didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

He could hear her chuckle in his mind. _Not yet. _There was a pause, as if she was hesitating. _I just wanted to let you know. _

There was much he wanted to say to her, but it was difficult enough to communicate as they were over such a distance, so he simply nodded to himself. _Thank you. I was...worried._

_I thought you might be. _

He frowned. _Are you...how are you?_

_I'm...better. _Her thoughts were tinged with regret and something else that he could not place. _Goodbye, Obi-Wan. _

_I just...goodbye? _His eyes closed. _Is that all it's come to now, Kali?_

There was a pause before she replied. _Obi-Wan, goodbye is all we ever had. _Then she was gone, the wall replaced as though it had never left. The fighter slipped through space as if nothing had happened and Obi-Wan sighed again, casting a glance at the controls.

For now it would have to be enough to know that she was alive and well, though he was not certain he could say the same.

**The End**

* * *

_Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed! You all kick SO much ass! _

_If you enjoyed this story, check out the next fic in the series, _Warriors of Shadow_. Thanks again for reading!_


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